My Name Is Meg: And This Is My Sequel
by Piedgy777
Summary: I once thought my 7th year at Hogwarts was going to be fun and carefree. Well, I guess I really am the stupidest Ravenclaw ever. Sneering Slytherins are now replaced by deranged Death Eaters, and with my inability to behave, I think I'm in in trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a sequel, which the title should hopefully have made pretty obvious, so if you don't have a clue what's going on then I reckon you know what to do ;)**

**Basically I got to the end of the original story and thought that Meg had a hell of a lot more to say and as she's a pretty persistent and vocal person this happened. Plus I'm still dealing with no more Harry Potter films ever...so this is all that's keeping me going!**

**But you didn't need/want to know any of that.**

**Onwards and upwards.**

**Wherein I am flooded in letters, and I think my neighbours are onto me.**

_Draco,_

_I know that you probably won't read this. Or if you do someone like Bellatrix Lestrange will read it first (which, by the way, you need some serious help, Bellatrix. Really.)_

_But, Draco, I wanted you to be the first to know that everything is your fault. I've probably told you this already, but I've forgotten. And that's how angry I am._

_Normally I would have the guts to say this kind of thing to your face- as you probably know- but here I am deteriorating to the role of a coward, because I'm really not too sure if I can handle speaking to you at all this term._

_Everything has changed, and everything I love has been destroyed because of you. I'm sure you have some sneering retort to that, but I'm hoping this actually makes you stop and think. I'm certainly hoping it makes you feel guilty._

_From now on, I'm going back to be the girl who you ignored until that time by the boathouse. And you're going to be the boy who looked on and did nothing as that man tried to kill me that night you ruined Hogwarts. Thanks for that, by the way. (Because when could I ever be completely serious?)_

_Everything else, I'm going to forget._

_You probably know me better as 'Forester'. But my name is Meg._

Sampson, the Eurasion Scops Owl who over summer and obtained the rather deluded impression that he was a bat gave a hoot from his upside-down perch on my wardrobe as I re-read the letter I had scrawled in my bad handwriting for what felt like the millionth time.

I didn't know why I was doing this to myself, as each time I read it I felt more and more miserable.

Around me; covering the plastic, flimsy desk my mum had bought for me during my childhood, was an impressive collection of heavy, thick parchment, all filled with letters from people I knew at school. And some, like the one in front of me now, that I had written to a certain someone, and never actually had the courage to send.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair that had grown longer these past few weeks as I tossed the draft down and instead picked up a letter written by one of my best friends,

_Megan Something Forester. _

_Obviously you're playing hard to get. Terry says he hasn't heard a word from you all summer, except for one letter that was crammed with awful jokes, which, I have to say, sounds just like you._

_But I must say I'm a little worried about you. I know what happened last term upset you, and apart from the obvious, I can't understand why. Please don't shut us out, it's seriously uncool. I have so much joke material for you that there's no way you can shut yourself away much longer._

_Hugs and kisses and all that good stuff,_

_Antony_

I had flopped down onto the bed by the time I finished reading, Sampson looking at me curiously through his yellow and (misleadingly) intelligent-looking eyes. I set the letter down and gazed straight back at him,

"We should probably reply, huh?" I said, rocking my foot against the bed. Sampson gave a small twitter which I took as agreement, flapping his wings madly in an attempt to stay the wrong way round.

_Apart from the obvious, I can't understand why_. I knew the 'obvious' Antony was referring to was the murder of our headmaster. And that would have been enough to derail me, regardless. But neither Antony nor Terry had quite clued in about Malfoy, and I certainly preferred to keep it that way. They had freaked out enough when I had briefly dated a _nice_ Slytherin. I didn't want to think about how they would react if they knew I had fallen a little too head-over-heels for a nasty one. However literally you wished to view it, given that our first kiss had been when I had tripped over and fallen on him.

I grumbled under my breath, rolling over so I could distract myself by staring at my surroundings that had become even more familiar over these past few weeks.

My room, over what was had been without a doubt the best six years of my life, had turned into a sort of chaotic and cluttered shrine, harbouring the things from that other world that was barred from me now until the first of September. Train tickets to Platform 9 and ¾ were pinned with blue-tack to my walls, along with posters of Quidditch teams I really didn't support, but had purchased for the sake of their moving contents, or the odd handsome player waving at me. My Ravenclaw scarf was spread on my bed, where I fell asleep with my fingers winding through the trestles, like some kind of comfort blanket. I had a few flags from the Quidditch games at school pinned up too, and had even gone as far as to have stuck up a cluster of handwritten notes that I had collected over the years, passed between me, Terry and Antony during rather dull History of Magic lessons. The contents and inky drawings usually involved our own take of the giant wars Professor Binns kept forcing us to hear, but occasionally it varied to the resemblance between Draco Malfoy and a ferret, or how we were fairly certain Ron Weasley had fallen asleep. I stared fondly now at Terry's perfect writing, and all the inky fingerprints Antony and I had accidentally smudged the parchment with.

A few copies of the Daily Prophet were scattering the area around the floor; my rubbish aim never quite making any actually reach the bin. I had been scanning them for weeks; taking in all the bad news and letting all the hope accumulated in my heart dissolve each time my eyes raked the pages. The hope had been for Hogwarts being unchanging, but with each death, each new Ministry law or decree, I became certain the school I had loved since I was eleven was at the point of no return.

To tell the truth, I was scared. Dead scared. I knew that Hogwarts, and everything about it that I knew and loved, was going to change now. Now that You Know Who was back more than ever, and that Dumbledore; the one thing protecting the school from the dark shadows lingering outside its grounds, was dead.

And no matter how many times I lay awake at night, sifting through the circumstances that had made it change, I always arrived at the same conclusion. Malfoy. The conclusion that he had taken something beautiful, and destroyed it beyond repair. And that made me hate him so much it obliterated any of those weird feelings that had been amassing in my chest towards the end of last term. The kind of feelings that made my heart leap slightly when his grey eyes brushed mine, or that wonderful feeling that we shared secrets together, and I had been allowed in a part of his life that none of his friends had been. Or that time when I was immensely thankful for that ill-placed cobblestone my foot had met. But now, now I just felt like I had acted like a silly, love struck teenager who thought the world would end if love did. So after my decided hatred of Malfoy, I found that a lot of my pent up dislike was actually channelling towards myself.

"Meg!" My mum's voice carried up the stairs; sounding a little weary, "Mrs Jamieson is here! Come and say hello!"

I shot Sampson a raised eyebrow, who replied with a loud shriek. Mrs Jamieson was a Muggle, and our next-door neighbour, who had made a somewhat annoying habit of dropping round for dinner occasionally. I didn't know why, as she spent a lot of her time finding fault with our house in the politest manner possible. But my mum, who had moved to this town when I was five, worked in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes at the Ministry of Magic, therefore loved having Mrs Jamieson over, owing to a rather unhealthy addiction to her job. Sadly, or luckily, it seemed I hadn't inherited that trait.

I met my sister Jade on the stairs; who seemed to have got lucky and was escaping in the other direction. I didn't really know if my younger sister, in her sixth year now, was as afraid as I was at the prospect of returning to Hogwarts. She had the annoying habit of cracking jokes instead of getting emotional or serious. Just like me, really.

"Have fun," She smirked, hopping the last stair, "She's in a particularly critical mood today."

"Jade!" My mum's voice sounded again, "Come and set the table! Dinner's nearly ready!"

It was my turn for the smirk, and Jade followed me downstairs again, muttering darkly about the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy that meant she had to do chores the Muggle way. I left her intellectual mind to it, totally lost.

Mrs Jamieson was sipping tea from a mug when we came downstairs, though her attitude suggested that she would have preferred a teacup; her little finger was splayed out and she was eyeing her surroundings with what I was sure was mild disdain. She was wearing another of her silk scarves. I didn't know where they kept coming from.

I was quite amused at the attempt my mother had made of making the lower floor of the house look as Muggle-like as possible. All whizzing instruments and shouting picture frames had been swept aside; and the towering, almost gravity defying bookcase that took up the majority of one wall was cleared of most of its spellbooks and the Gilderoy Lockhart series that was still far too popular in this household for my taste. My sister still thought that Cornish Pixie story was me exaggerating.

"Hullo, Mrs Jamieson." I said in a deadpan voice, earning a glance from my mum who looked like she was currently having fun serving a casserole 'the Muggle way'.

"Hello, Maggie." Mrs Jamieson said, shifting in her seat to give me a quick look-over, "My, hasn't your hair grown...nicely."

"I'm fairly sure it was the same as it was two nights ago," I replied, moving over to the kitchen in the pretence of helping cook.

"I was just telling Mrs Jamieson about you lot starting school soon," My mum said, shooting me a warning glance as she handed me the casserole, pushing me in the direction of the table,

"Oh. That." I said darkly, deciding there was no place I could go to escape the prospect, even around a Muggle.

"So where is it you girls go to school?" Mrs Jamieson asked, setting down the mug with the littlest amount of skin touching the fake china as possible.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," I replied, setting the casserole down on the table with a loud 'thunk.'

"Meg," My mum hissed. She was used to me doing that, but it didn't stop her cringing each time I said it.

"We go to a boarding school up in Scotland," Jade supplied for us, sending my mother and me disapproving glances, "Term starts in two days, in fact."

"Oh, Matthew starts then too," Mrs Jamieson said, and given the ammunition to start talking about her son, she immediately began to talk about his fantastic exam results. Given that the only exams I was familiar with were OWLs or NEWTs, I had no idea what she was talking about. I hoped she didn't ask for our results. Something told me getting a T –for troll– in History of Magic was anything that she could relate to.

Unnoticed by anyone else, out of the corner of my eye I saw what could only be described as a hesitant ball of fluff edging into the kitchen from the hallway; looking around inquisitively. At least, I was fairly sure it was looking around. I had never worked out if it had eyes or not. Fitzwilliam the pygmy puff decidedly marched into the kitchen; heading straight for Jade, who had bought the ridiculous thing from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes last summer. Without a doubt one of the more regretted moments of my life. I had dropped the thing at least once out of the Divination Tower, and nearly cooked it in Potions class. All by accident, of course.

I dived at it before Mrs Jamieson could notice that a bright pink ball of fluff was walking of its own accord, scooping it up and lobbing it back into the hallway,

"Meg!" Jade exclaimed, looking scandalised,

"It's the draft from the door," I said loudly, to nobody in particular, "It causes dust to waft in."

"Well, I have been saying that door is wonky for ages." Mrs Jamieson added.

By the time I was able to escape to my room, Sampson had been hooting so loudly that I doubted Mrs Jamieson could put it down to noisy plumbing, and Fitzwilliam had decided to grace us with his presence several more times, so that it had got a little hard to keep passing him off as dust from a draft. In short, I was a bit worried for the state of our household's secret.

"Good lord!" Mrs Jamieson's voice drifted from downstairs, as I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, "Did that photograph just _move_?"

"A trick of the light, I'm sure." My mum said laughing in what was definitely a forced voice, and I was left with the conclusion, that even if Mrs Jamieson got nowhere near the truth, she would at least think we were completely insane. I decided she would probably be right.

I hit my leg on the edge of something hard, and shuffling forwards; I saw it was my school trunk. Considering term started in two days, I leant forwards curiously, with half a mind to clear it out.

After opening it I changed my mind completely. There had to be at least six years worth of rubbish in there that I had never cleaned out, that had simply built up to make the battered trunk heavier and messier with each year.

I instead used my time to look through it, laughing as I came across old Transfiguration homework from the first year, which, if anything, had got worse over the years, if I was honest. Sweets probably bought from one of my more earlier visits to Hogsmeade, such as Fizzing Whizbees and Levitating Sherbet Balls lay scattered in-between crumpled robes and old socks, and were humming slightly with their decaying sugar. I actually got a nasty surprise when I reached in to disentangle my dragon hide gloves from a much abused set of brass scales and was confronted by a miniature Chizpurfle leaf, that bit my finger then shot back into the folds of clothes, growling happily.

I was withdrawing all interest in the case when my hand brushed something silky and smooth. Not entirely certain if it wasn't just another creature that had somehow bred in there, I peered cautiously downwards, and gave a start as I realised it had been silken fabric. I let out a noise that was between a laugh and a weird choke of surprise as I pulled it free and saw it was Malfoy's tie, the one I had stolen all those months ago on the bridge when I had been hiding from Terry. And my possession of said tie had also led to Antony giving Pansy Parkinson antlers.

My bedroom door opened as Fitzwilliam trotted in. I didn't even bother to question the possibility of a miniature Puffskein having the ability to open doors. I had stopped questioning his anatomy ever since he had survived that drop off the Divination tower. Besides, I was more preoccupied with the tie in my hands, and trying to push back the memories it brought forth.

I think, well, I knew, that the reason I was so annoyed with Draco was not because of his links with people I had no desire to cross paths with, or how much I blamed him for Dumbledore's death. And I also think this same reason was why I couldn't quite bring myself to write back to anyone. What was there to say except to tell my friends that I think my heart had broken a little that night when everything had gone so wrong? I couldn't help my mind flashing back to the times when I had bridged the distance between our lips, or how much my heart had turned over whenever he had smiled at me. And then all those wonderful memories seemed to have been snuffed out when he had stood there, simply staring as Greyback had leant towards me, having been perfectly happy to tear my throat out. Now, I decided it would be a better idea all round if I just strangled Malfoy with said tie. I made a mental note.

Sampson brought me back to reality with a loud shriek, which I found quite a good thing. I was in danger of slipping into an even worse state of mind than had become the norm.

"I need you to send a letter." I said determinedly, grabbing him from his perch on the dresser and marching over to the desk.

It took me a while to sort out the clumps of parchment, finally selecting the penultimate letter I had just reread.

Straightening up, I hit my head on the ceiling; which was lowered to form a small alcove. I swore under my breath, not particularly surprised. Years of doing that had left me with little astonishment when it happened. I wondered idly if that was why my brain was so barely there. Sampson had fluttered out of my hands as checked for concussion, and was waiting on the sill; peering out through the open window.

"Wait just a second." I grumbled, rubbing my head with one hand and trying to attach the letter to him with the other, "Just be careful ok? I don't want you being zapped by any of the company Draco's keeping this summer. Goodness knows who they are."

Sampson gave a squawk, which plainly said, _I'd like to see them try_.

"Take care," I said, scooping him up and throwing him out into the gathering night air. I mentally swore as I realised one of my older neighbours was walking past, and had stopped to stare at me; not entirely politely.

"Nice evening." I said hastily, as if chucking an owl out of your window after having an intense conversation with it was totally normal, "What cats will bring in nowadays, huh?"

I slammed the window shut before she could comment, and when I drew the curtains I saw that she was still watching me with suspicious eyes.

"Muggles." I muttered, "So nosy."

Later, after debating for several moments with my reflection in the bathroom mirror that my course of action had actually been the right idea, I climbed under the duvet on my bed; pulling it up over my face so all sights of my bedroom were obliterated.

It felt odd to be dreading the return to Hogwarts, but it was a paranoia I couldn't shift. With Dumbledore gone, things could hardly remain good. I also felt strangely nervous about that letter I had just sent to Malfoy, and a little part of me was wondering, or perhaps even worrying, what he had been up to this summer. I'd read about a breakout from Azkaban at the beginning of July, and whilst the Daily Prophet were pretty vague in detailing, it had mentioned the escape of Lucius Malfoy among other Death Eaters. I conjured a rather ridiculous image in my mind's eye of all the Death Eaters in Malfoy's house, which was sure to be some castle or manor. Somehow, it was almost impossible to imagine Draco among them, unless he was pulling that desperate, ashen expression he had adopted so frequently last year.

Whilst at the beginning of the summer, that might have filled me with a vindictive pleasure, now, it left me feeling exceedingly pitiful towards him. But I was used to how often my mind changed about Draco Malfoy. I just wished my brain would stay put with my opinion of him.

But, hey, apparently that would just make life too easy.


	2. Chapter 2

**In which I chose the worst time to play dressing up and receive advice from a shrivelled head. **

I shuffled downstairs in pyjamas next morning, yawning my head off to find my mum frying bacon and Jade feeding Fitzwilliam cornflakes. Go figure.

"Mrs Newman said that an owl was savaging your room last night when I went to get the Muggle mail, Meg." My mum said with a smile,

"Fancy that." I commented, waving my wand and causing a cup of tea to zoom towards me. Since turning seventeen, I'd been having a lot more fun with magic. True, I'd been using magic at home since forever, as the Ministry had no way of knowing it wasn't my mum casting magic, but it felt a lot less guilty now. I would have liked to have added it was a lot less accident-prone now I was an older, more mature witch, but that just wasn't true.

"Have you seen that?" My mum continued, nodding to the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ dumped on the table as she flipped bacon with her wand, "It doesn't look suspicious _at all_."

"What is it?" I asked blankly, a feeling of dread stirring in my stomach at her flippantly sarcastic tone. Jade reached for the newspaper, pulling it towards her carelessly and reading from the front page,

"_Pius Thicknesse has replaced Rufus Scrimgeour as Minister for Magic_, _in a unanimous decision made last night. _("Yeah, right" I interrupted, earning a scowl from Jade for the disruption) _Thicknesse, previously head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has been reported to be aiming to clamp down on any persons said to be hindering the search for He Who Must Not Be Named, and abetting his followers-"_

"Loosely translated," My mum said, flicking her wand and causing the frying pan to shoot towards the table, "As anyone You Know Who can get rid of without raising too much resistance."

"You think You Know Who has got to the ministry?" Jade asked, looking concerned for once as she began helping herself to bacon as I took a massive swig of tea, absorbing the article.

"I think he managed to do that a long time ago." My mum shrugged, sitting down with a cup of tea, "But this recent appointment is nothing but bad news. I expect we'll begin to see all sort of laws against Muggle Borns and the like now."

"What about Hogwarts?" I asked quietly, looking at my bacon without the slightest inclination in eating it all of a sudden, "What will they do there?"

"I expect they'll weed out anyone they don't like." My mum caught my expression and hastened to add, "You two will be fine. You're Half Bloods. It's the Muggle Borns they'll be after."

Jade hastily rattled off a list of her many friends who were Muggle Borns, and I sat there in a stupor, dazed at how my worst fears where coming true. Malfoy, my brain said again. It was all _his_ fault.

"Look at this!" Jade cried, disturbing my repetitive musings as she brandished another page at me. It took me a while to hold it still long enough to be able to make it out, and I felt my heart lurch uncomfortably when I finally managed it.

A picture of a messy dark haired wizard I knew too well from lessons and late night walkabouts took up the majority of the page. Harry Potter blinked up at me, his famous lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Underneath him were the words 'WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.'

I couldn't help it. I spat out my tea.

"What?" I spluttered, whilst Jade looked disgusted, "But that's ridiculous! Snape killed Dumbledore!"

"How do you know that?" Jade asked blankly, and I realised I hadn't ever told either of them about my involvement in the battle the night Dumbledore had died. McGonagall had told all of us to guard the situation with the strictest confidence. I had only listened because I was too uncomfortable talking about it.

"I...overheard Lupin and Harry talking." I said weakly, "I was in the hospital wing the same night they all were."

For two remarkably clever people, neither of them seemed to appreciate the link between me being with everyone else who had fought in the impromptu battle in the hospital wing at the exact same time. Instead, Jade turned back to the newspaper, and five seconds later pulled another grimace.

"And now Muggle Borns have to submit themselves to questioning about how they 'stole' their magical powers... oh this is ridiculous...we have to be given a blood status at Hogwarts!"

"How can McGonagall and the others let this happen?" I exclaimed at my tea, and was met with no answer, unsurprisingly.

"Because they want to stay alive, and have absolutely no say in how the school is run anymore." My mum said wisely, and I wondered whereabouts the clever gene had been lost on me. Maybe my dad had been a thick head.

"The world's gone mad." Jade concluded, tossing aside the newspaper and looking at me with a grin, "You up for shopping today, Meg? The booklists arrived today."

"Shopping?" I asked weakly, unsure if she was joking, "We just read all those articles about You Know Who having the Ministry is in his hands, and everyone rounding up Muggle Borns and making Harry Potter seem evil, and you want to go _shopping_?"

"Please," Jade snorted, waving a hand, "I need new robes, and I need to get measurements there. Plus, you need to get your books too, Meg."

"I don't want to get my books." I muttered. "I'm not going to school."

"Oh yes you are." My mum chimed in with a grin that I had seen too often in my own reflection, "The Ministry has made attendance compulsory. And besides, you're too irritating to have here all year."

"Cheers." I scowled, finally starting on my bacon.

After a sooty journey through the Floo Networks, we landed in Diagon Alley, any interest I may have accumulated throughout the morning diminishing as I saw the wanted posters of infamous Death Eaters from last summer had now been replaced with one single picture.

"I never knew Harry was such a rebel." I remarked to Jade, prodding one of the posters of his face with my index finger. "Now's a good time to go, right?"

"No!" She squealed defiantly, gesturing towards Madame Malkin's shop, "I need robes!"

"Make do. Send her your measurements or something. This place is too dodgy now."

My point was further enforced as a man in plaid trousers walked past; his hair matted beyond what my neighbours would have classed as civilised, and with battered leather boots. He gave us a quick look-over as we stood there, his eyes narrowing before stalking past.

But Jade seemed not to have noticed, and a moment later I was being dragged off to Madame Malkin's, my arm trapped under hers.

"Morning!" Jade exclaimed loudly and cheerfully at the grey-haired witch when we entered the shop, who leapt about a foot in the air and scolded Jade for being so happy.

"Like being miserable is going to make anything better." Jade muttered darkly to me as Madame Malkin went to fetch her tape measure and chalk.

"Yeah, it's almost like You Know Who is back." I snorted, examining a glittering gold dress robe, my nose wrinkled with distaste.

"Ooo!" Jade cooed, seeing what I was looking at, "Try it on!"

"I'd rather be eaten by the Giant Squid."

"I'll try one on too!"

"Actually, I'd rather be given detention by Umbridge for a year and _then _eaten by the Giant Squid."

But somehow Jade was doing rather well in getting her way today. Although I refused point blank to be forced into a glittery dress, I soon found myself squeezed into a navy blue dress robes, a little reminiscent of what I had worn to the Yule Ball. Although I'd drunk a bit too much Red Current Rum then to remember the exact details of it, thank goodness.

Jade pranced out from the dressing room, and I collapsed into laughter at the frilly pink dress robes she was modelling. I expected we were going to be told off for being too happy again.

"You know it looks good," She declared, spinning around before me with her arms held aloft.

Before I could answer, my eyes fell on the door of the shop, and I straightened up immediately as I saw two figures standing outside, looking up the high street. The laughter ended in a strangled croak as I instantly recognised one of them.

"No, no, no, no…"

"Meg?" Jade asked blankly, but I had already leapt behind a clothes rack, just as the bell tinkled and Draco Malfoy walked into the shop; his mother by his side, about as ashen-faced as he was looking nowadays.

"Meg?" Jade said again, for a clever Ravenclaw now being incredibly thick.

"Shut _up_." I hissed, crouching down behind the racks, despite myself, peering through the clothes at him.

He was still the same tall, lean figure from the sixth year; his pale hair the same hue as his mother's. His grey eyes still had that dead, miserable look in them; and his skin looked even more pallid than normal, dark shadows under his eyes as if he had been under a great deal of strain for a very long time.

All in all, it didn't look like he'd had the best summer.

Jade was still looking at me, and I realised there was absolutely no way out of this.

With the air of a brave solider about to charge into battle, I straightened up, a scowl ready on my face.

The look Malfoy gave me might have cheered me up, but I was too busy being furious. He looked at me as if I had just risen from the dead, which I made a mental note to do in the future, just to freak him out.

"Oh." Jade seemed to have worked out why I had hidden, and was staring rather blankly at the people who had just entered the shop.

"Shopping for school robes, Malfoy?" I said heatedly, overly conscious and incredibly embarrassed that I was rather dolled up at the moment, "That is _nice_. I'm surprised you're coming back at all after you worked so hard to close school last year. Good job with that, by the way."

But instead of standing there and replying with an insult, which I had to admit was a part of Hogwarts life I had always rather enjoyed, Malfoy simply looked at me, as if he was trying to tell me something with that same imploring expression he had used on me before summer, and just walked away, probably to find Madame Malkin; his mother stalking after him after casting a cold glance in my direction.

"What was that about?" Jade asked blankly, her eyes following the back of Malfoy's head.

"That was my way of saying 'Hello, Malfoy, how was your summer?'" I sighed, plucking at the fabric of my dress robe, "I'm getting out of this, you get your robes and then can we go please?"

Out of all the wanted posters of Harry, the dodgy characters roaming the streets, or the awful clothes I allowed my sister to dress me in, nothing made me want to go home more than Draco Malfoy entering the shop I was standing in. I got the feeling Malfoy wouldn't want to be spending much time around me this year, particularly if every time we crossed paths I was going to unleash every ounce of hate and anger I was feeling at that moment, just like now.

Considering we were actually in Diagon Alley, I was forced to admit going to Flourish and Blotts was the logical thing to do, and found that we managed to get our school books pretty quickly, given that the shops were practically deserted except for their hesitant owners who scurried out to serve us extremely unwillingly.

It was with a rather relived air that we arrived back in our seaside town and enjoyed the rest of our last day before school. I finally appreciated what Muggles meant when they said they dreaded their return to school, although I guessed they hated it for reasons other than an evil wizard returning to power and casting a shadow of gloom over their school.

Even though most of my brain was absorbed in this issue when I was between dreaming and consciousness that night, there was a part of me that kept returning back to Madame Malkins, and turning my eyes on Malfoy for the first time in about six weeks. It seemed like an alien idea that I had last seen him fleeing the school with the man who had murdered our headmaster. How badly had things gone wrong for that to happen? And underneath everything, that feeling of pity kept turning in my stomach, mixed with that ever present, however suppressed, feeling of guilt that somehow blame could be put on me for not working out what Malfoy had been doing last year. Those two emotions kept the anger fresh in my heart, and below that, an intense sadness that I had been covering up pretty well.

So all in all, when I woke up the next morning, I was not the usual enthusiastic person I normally was at this time of year.

The small little seaside town of Braxton-On-Sea was about as sleepy as a town could get without actually being a ghost town. The cinema showed one film for a few weeks, or even months, and was stuck with the old method of the employees simply sprinkling sugar or salt on rather musty, stale popcorn. The residents were similarly matter-of-fact and uncomplicated; gossiping in the local pub and treating teenagers with the usual hostility and suspicion, as if we were about to burn down the only bus stop out of here, or break the one swing and slide that constituted as a playground.

So, naturally, I attracted many horrified looks as I hurried down the cobbled streets with a caged, shrieking owl in one hand, and a large trunk that was wobbling dangerously in the other.

Once again, just like every year, I was running late to catch the train from Platform 9 and ¾.

I had gotten up early, and had just clambered out of the shower when Jade and my mum had left via the fireplace to get breakfast in London. I had taken my sweet time anyway, but when I finally went to the fireplace, I saw someone had used the last of the Floo Powder, rendering my only fast way out of here as useless. I hadn't even been bothered to try illegal Apparition. Knowing my luck, I would splinch myself all over Europe.

With half an hour until the train left, I was a little stretched for time, and my temper was running just a little short.

"Hey, Meg!"

I looked over and muttered a curse under my breath as I saw Matthew Jamieson, my Muggle neighbour coming over, a friendly smile on his face. Unlike his mother and her penchant for silk scarves, I actually liked Matthew, but now I was currently late getting to a magical platform so I could attend a school of magic, I wasn't exactly sure how to get rid of him.

Matthew reached me, dressed in his school uniform for Braxton Secondary School, and took in my battered trunk, Sampson and my flustered expression all in one go.

"Wow, you look like you're off to a wizard school or something."

"Imagine that." I said dryly, working hard not to snigger, "I really have to be somewhere, actually Matthew. So I'll see you around."

"I just wondered if you're free at a weekend for a movie or something. I was planning on going with some mates if you wanted to come. Jade can too."

"Isn't the cinema still showing _Gone with the Wind_? 'Cos I'm not too sure I could handle that again."

"We can go out of town," Matthew said with a laugh, "You know, catch the only bus out of here."

"Catch a bus," I mused, suddenly with a plan, "I...I mean... I go to a boarding school, Matthew, so weekends are not good for me. But I'll be free at Christmas, I guess."

"Oh right. Where do you go?"

"Um..." I couldn't spare the time to think of a name, so with a shrug I let myself have this one, "It's called Hogwarts. But I'm seriously late getting there."

"Oh ok. Have a good term then. Let me know about that film."

"Sure!" I shouted over my shoulder, already running away. "Bye!" I hurtled off at full pelt, heading for a secluded part of town where no nosy neighbours would be peeking out their curtains. The trouble was, in Braxton-On-Sea, there were very few places like that.

I finally managed to find one when, panting slightly, I turned down an alleyway, legging it to where it ended at the end of a private road. I fumbled hastily for my wand and drew it; hoping that was all I actually needed to do and hadn't forgotten anything.

I heaved a sigh of relief as an ear-splitting bang issued around the deserted alleyway, louder than a car backfiring. If that didn't grab the neighbours attention, I didn't know what would.

A massive, triple-decker, livid purple bus had appeared from nowhere into the alley, and without waiting for invitation, I leapt aboard, my trunk clattering behind me as I dragged it up the steps, panting with the effort.

"Mornin'" Wheezed an old wizard who sat behind the massive steering wheel, next to a shrivelled head. It was one of those things you didn't question. "Welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Ernie Prang and I am your driver."

"Where's Stan?" I asked, ignoring the fairly self-explanatory speech as I shoved my trunk under the nearest seat, frowning slightly. I had last taken this bus exactly a year ago, although then I had been a little more on time. I remembered the pimpled youth who had rattled off a long announcement about this bus and bullied me into buying a purple toothbrush that I still didn't really want to use.

A shadow passed across the old man's face, and I felt my heart lurch uncomfortably.

"Got put away." He whispered, "He's with 'em Dementors, now."

"Azkaban?" I asked incredulously, momentarily forgetting my lack of punctuality, "That's got to be a mistake!"

But Ernie merely shifted uncomfortably, looking around at the other passengers as if he didn't want to be seen announcing that the Ministry were wrong in imprisoning Stan. I suppose he was wise.

"Where you going, miss? 'Cos I've got passengers waiting."

"How much for London?" I asked, reaching for my trunk once again,

"Eleven Sickles. But pay later; we need to get Madam Marsh off of here first."

Before I could say anything else there was another deafening bang that seemed to shake the whole street and I was flung backwards, crashing into another seat and hitting my head quite badly on the window, Sampson shrieking excitedly. A wizard behind me with a box of ferrets started chuckling.

Several stops later and I was beginning to lose my patience, as well as sporting several bruises on my body.

"Ernie!" I yelled towards the driver's seat, "Can we get to Platform 9 and ¾ quicker? I'm going to miss the train at this rate!"

"Can't take you to the platform," Ernie replied, wrenching the steering wheel around so we skidded past the Eiffel Tower, narrowly missing it, "Can take you to King's Cross though."

"Fine! I have to be there in five minutes!"

We finally slammed to a halt outside the familiar train station, and I had the minor satisfaction of the box of ferrets sliding under the seats and hitting the wall with a loud squeak.

"King's Cross Station." The shrivelled head announced, "Make sure you shun Platform 4 and ½ . It ain't not at all pretty."

"How much, Ern?" I asked, leaping forwards, casting a nervous glance at the massive clock outside the station,

"Eleven Sickles." He said through a bite of sandwich. "You want a toothbrush for some extra gold?"

"Not at all, thanks."

"That's eleven Sickles then."

I paid as quickly as I could, flinging several silver coins at Ernie, and leapt off the bus; lingering long enough to steady my trunk before racing into the station, ignoring the looks I got from the staff and people commuting late to work.

I didn't bother with stealth as I approached the barrier. I just ran straight through it, risking freaking out my onlookers even more.

To my great relief, there was still a large amount of people milling on the platform, loading luggage onto the train and chattering with their families; the scarlet steam engine blowing copious amounts of smoke over them.

My eyes narrowed as I caught sight of my mum and Jade through the crowd, and only pausing briefly to exchange a few words between Seamus Finnigan and Luna Lovegood, I muscled through the crowd, arriving before them with an expression of somebody who was extremely put out on my face.

"Well, you did a good job, mum, but you still managed to fail in excluding your daughter from her education." I huffed, dumping my case down on the floor as I spread my arms out in mock celebration, "I'm here now!"

"Hoo-ray." Jade said acerbically, before stalking away.

"We figured you'd use that resourceful head of yours." My mum said carelessly, taking my case from its neglected state on the floor and beginning to heave it towards the train,

"Mum, you left me alone in the house with no way of getting here!" I protested, following her with Sampson's cage. A few people parted to let us through, casting us wary glances as we argued. Sometimes, I liked to think my reputation as a bit of an extrovert proceeded me.

"Well, you evidently did fine, dear." My mum grunted, evidently not bothering with an apology as she heaved the trunk onto the train. I shoved Sampson's cage beside it, though I kept the actual owl with me, knowing his volume could increase alarmingly if he was placed with other owls, and spun round angrily to find myself face to face with someone who was about to put a cage containing a very angry, very vicious looking Eagle Owl that I had nearly taken my hand off about a year ago.

"You're kidding." I informed Draco Malfoy, who looked like he really wished he were at the bottom of the ocean right now, or at least somewhere very far away from me. That made two of us. "You cannot keep being around me this year."

"I've seen you all of twice." He snapped, his brows lowering, as if trying to summon a scornful attitude but not quite managing it.

"Yeah, well, that's quite enough for me, thank you." I said, realising that verbally attacking him the minute he was in sight wasn't exactly keeping with what I had written in my letter to him, "Maybe you should step back next time and let someone try to kill me so I'm out of your way. Oh, wait, you already did that."

"Meg, can I have a word?" My mum cut in before Draco could say anything, not that I thought he was going to. I allowed myself to be led away, but not before casting an 'I really dislike you' look at Malfoy. I was surprised to see he was looking rather subdued now.

"Meg, you need to be careful this term," My mum said in a low voice, over all the shouts of goodbye being exchanged between parents and their children, "Annoying people with dark connections, like Draco Malfoy, is a bit of a bad move."

"Annoying?" I repeated, slightly incensed, throwing my new rucksack across my back (the old one had died a grizzly death after a year of being dragged around the floor of Hogwarts, with me swearing at it constantly all the while. Poor thing) "I was merely letting him know to keep away from me! And trust me, he is not the kind of person who would get me killed just because I'm _annoying_." I thought about that for a moment after I had said it, and realised I actually had no idea if he _was_ that kind of person.

"Well, even if he is fine to be around," My mum said with a tone that stated she evidently didn't think so, "You need to be careful around everyone. I don't know what kind of adults are going to be at your school this term, especially now You Know Who has got to the Ministry," She had lowered her voice dramatically, so that I had to lean close to actually catch what she was saying, "But there's doubt and fear everywhere, and I want you to promise me you'll behave this year."

"Behave?" I asked, startled. My mum had never asked me to behave at anything, except for the odd family reunion or grandmother visit. But she usually seemed to be amused by my lack of ability to sit straight throughout a period of time without talking or accidentally insulting someone. I saw that trait pretty often in herself, in fact. Now, I'd never seen her looking so serious.

"Promise me, Meg." She said sternly, gripping my shoulders as the whistles for the train issued around us shrilly, "Promise me that this year you'll behave."

"What about you?" I asked, ignoring the multitude of students leaping onto the train, "You'll keep your head down too, right? You work in the Ministry, after all."

"Meg!" Jade's voice shouted in the direction of the train, and I saw with a shoot of panic that it had actually started to move. I wriggled from my mum's grip and sprinted towards the nearest door; flinging it open and leaping on just as the distance between the train and platform began to grow.

I turned round to see my mum waving, and despite myself, I found my lips mouthing the words 'I promise.' I sincerely hoped I could keep her to that. It seemed like a hard assignment.

My resolve was tested the second I turned around, and found myself looking at the back of Pansy Parkinson's head. I had to say, I had preferred her much more when she had had antlers. Thankfully, she hadn't actually seen me, so I wound my hands around the arms of my rucksack, Sampson clinging to my shoulder, and slid past her as quickly as I could before she could spot me.

The train compartments at this end were pretty much full, and as I had no desire to sit in the ones that were occupied with first or second years (or third years for that matter. Now I was a seventh year I was feeling rather aloof from the younger people) I headed towards the other seating areas, searching for the friends that I had neglected all summer.

My heart gave a horrible flip as I passed the Slytherin compartment that would no doubt be where Pansy was heading to. My head seemed to automatically turn towards it, taking in Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle briefly before I snapped back to staring in front of me, but not before I had caught a brief flash of white blond hair.

I had received a reply to the letter I had sent before term had started. I had studied it briefly, taking in the short, four word sentence that it consisted of. Now, however, it was thrown in the direction of the waste paper basket all the way back in my room at Braxton-On-Sea; scrunched into a tiny ball, the only other record of it ever existing was the image of the neat handwriting that was now ingrained into my mind.

_I'm sorry._ _For everything._

A person hurtled into me, knocking the wind out of my stomach as I was forced into what I later decided had definitely been a rib-cracking hug.

"OUCH!" I exclaimed in a muffled voice as the figure drew away, confirming my suspicions that it was Antony Goldstein, the writer of the several humorous letters over the holidays, who was looking rather tanned at the moment.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had melted into the ground or something." Antony said, the humour in his voice not quite meeting his eyes.

"Sampson got too tired delivering letters," I lied quickly. From my shoulder, Sampson gave a screech as if in protest of any such possibility, "And Mum wouldn't let me borrow the family owl."

"Well, Terry thought you'd found new best friends," Antony laughed, his easy nature returning as he steered me to a few seats in the next section of the train, "I said that was impossible, of course. I mean, I'm me, right?"

"Where's the sunburn from?"

"Australia. And sun bathing in Padma's garden."

"Oh my," I smirked as the topic of his girlfriend was brought up, "You _have_ been busy."

When we arrived at the seats; clustered around two tables on each side of the aisle, I saw the dark-haired figure of Terry, who, naturally, was pouring over a book, sitting on the other side of a table from Padma Patil.

"Look who's alive, Terry!" Antony said, sliding into a seat next to Padma who gave me a welcoming grin. Terry looked up from his book and his face broke into a smile,

"Meg!"

"My owl got too tired to send letters," I said quickly, "Or I would have replied."

It seemed I was craftier than I had thought, as both my friends bought that story, and it were as if no time had been spent away from one another as we began to laugh and joke, exchanging stories of our summers.

"Have you seen this?" Terry asked later, his eyes falling on a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that lay abandoned on the table.

"I don't want to," I groaned, sinking down in my seat, "It just gets worse and worse."

"Well, it certainly has this time," Terry said darkly, jabbing the front cover, "Snape's been made headmaster."

"What?" I exclaimed loudly, sitting up.

"He made up some trifle about how there is no greater honour," Terry said dismissively, "Although it sounds like he's highly favouring clamping down on Muggle Borns."

"They're supposed to present themselves to an interrogation," Antony added, "Although that just sounds like the ideal way to get rid of them."

"Oh, don't!" Padma protested, looking ashen.

"Snape's in favour of it because he's a murdering bastard." I muttered under my breath, receiving several astonished looks for my vibrant choice of language. They were some of the few who knew the truth concerning Dumbledore's death, and even though there were speculations about Snape having a hand in it there weren't many who were dead certain. I was relieved I could talk freely with them about it. There were too many things I had kept hidden.

As we waited for the trolley to come by with the usual sweets and refreshments, I looked to the other side of the aisle, my eyes not really taking in what I was seeing until I recognised the people I saw there.

Across the aisle, Neville Longbottom was sitting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. I would have thought this an odd grouping, if not for the knowledge that they had fought against the Death Eaters who had entered the castle before summer. What I actually found odd, however, was that the other people who had been present, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were nowhere in sight.

"Harry's still got wanted posters everywhere," Terry said, as if he had read my mind, casting a look in Neville's direction, "I seriously doubt he's going anywhere near Hogwarts this year if he's sensible."

"You think the other two are on the run with him?" Antony asked, looking like that was really quite a cool thing to do. Perhaps that should be the backup plan if Hogwarts went pear-shaped this year.

"Or they're doing something to fight against You Know Who!" I said eagerly, liking that possibility much more.

Terry opened his mouth, to agree with one of our theories, but before he could do so, the train gave a lurch; pitching luggage from the racks and throwing people forwards.

"What the-"

I stumbled to my feet as it happened again before screeching on the rails as it listed to a stop, horribly reminiscent of the time Dementors had entered the train. Some people further down the train were actually screaming.

I cast a nervous look down the carriage, my hand groping for my wand unconsciously. I still had time, however, to throw a quick glower at Malfoy, who had leant out of his compartment to see what was going on.

There was a loud crack and several people jumped.

"Sit down Meg." Terry hissed quickly, as if he had just grasped what was happening. Slightly afraid by the sharpness in his voice, I leapt back into my seat, just as the carriage door opened and a man entered.

I knew he was a Death Eater for several reasons.

One, he had that build that seemed to immediately make you a member of the evil team. He was enormously big and stocky; muscles rippling in his arms and a cold look in his pale eyes as his gaze swept the carriage. Secondly, he was clad in dark robes, and underneath he was wearing a kind of silver armoured shirt; as if ready for battle. And thirdly, I recognised him from the night Dumbledore had died. This was the hulking blond Death Eater who had been firing hexes at everyone. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of another dark figure, whose eyes were scanning the compartment as if searching for something.

I froze in my seat, my eyes fixed on them, as a few fourth years sitting nearby squeaked in terror.

I don't think anyone was expecting Neville Longbottom to get to his feet, square his shoulders and announce in a mocking tone,

"Oi, losers, he's not here."

I drew a sharp breath as the Death Eater turned to face him. I didn't know whether to heave a sigh of relief or not when he broke into a leering grin, revealing several silver teeth.

With one swift movement, he waved his wand, and with a loud bang that made several people shriek, the luggage overheard burst from the shelves, toppling into the aisles and hitting the floor; several bags bursting open or bouncing off limbs. The Death Eater barely glanced at the luggage racks, but cast a long and rather menacing look at Neville.

My legs tensed, as if I were expecting myself to leap up if he did anything else. I immediately discarded that as ridiculous. I could barely cast _Alohomora_. How exactly was I planning on getting a Death Eater off our train?

But apparently there was no need for me to do anything, which was definitely a very good thing.

As quickly as he had appeared, and with another loud crack that made me jump, he Disapparated, his robes the last thing to disappear as though they were wings, but I fancied I saw a quick glint of his teeth, as though he were still smiling.

The carriage was silent, even as the train began moving again; the familiar movement almost suggesting that I had imagined the whole thing.

"What the hell was that about?" Antony asked, whose face was very pale as the rocking motion of the train began to lull the students back into talking. Although the tense panic that was laced in several voices showed I had evidently not imagined it. Shame.

"He was searching for Harry." Terry said, working his hands together with a dark expression on his face, "Death Eaters."

Padma made an odd noise that sounded reminiscent of a squeak. Antony's hand found hers.

"They're mental," I muttered, scowling at the floor, "They act as if he's stupid."

"Or they're desperate." Terry said, in keeping with that wise habit of his. I shot him a slightly envious look.

The wave of happiness that had spurted from me when I had seen my friends again had now washed away, leaving me with the abject feeling of fear and concern that had haunted me throughout the summer holidays. That was how easy it had been to cause that downward spiral, and I found most of my fury was actually directed at the fact that the train journey that was normally so full of excitement and happiness was now mournfully absent.

I was coming back from a walk around the train later when I was accosted by the very person I had so wonderfully avoided earlier. Pansy Parkinson slipped out of the Slytherin compartment and barred my way, an unpleasant smile on her pug-like face.

"How will you do it, Forester?" She jeered, lolling in my path, "You've got to be clever to fool them, and you're definitely _not_ that."

"What are you talking about?" I asked as politely as I could muster, remembering the promise to my mum.

"Blood statuses," She sneered, and I felt my face grow hot as I saw Malfoy look up out the corner of my eye. He had always had a weird obsession with my blood status. It kind of made me want to punch him now, "They'll want you as far away from them as possible. And who can blame them?"

"Ah." I said, seeing what she was getting at, "Well, we'll have to see won't we?"

I suppose telling her I actually wasn't Muggle Born was the fastest way to shut her up, but I was holding out for a shocked look on her face when we were handed out our blood statuses that I was betting would cheer me up immensely.

I shouldered past her before she could get another word out, heading back towards our table, debating at whether I would rather stay on the train or night or step inside Hogwarts. It was a tossup with which I considered worse.

The train slowing down as it approached it finally destination therefore did little or nothing for my mood, and yanking on my robes felt like I blundering forwards, blind, into some unknown monster's lair. But I think one too many sweets from the trolley had made me a little over-dramatic.

I clambered off the train with the wave of other students, met with the cool night air that was quite refreshing to my body, which had been doing nothing but sitting all day. Except for the mad rush to get to the station on time, of course. The station was lit by lamps; small bugs flying around in the orange glow they were emitting, and when I heard Hagrid's voice calling the first years to him, I felt the usual glow of excitement was still there, however much smaller and dimmer than it usually was.

I took heart slightly in how the carriages that pulled themselves were as smelly as ever; the musty straw smell rather stifling as we wound our way towards the castle.

I leant out the window as we drew closer, Sampson chattering from my shoulder like some fuzzy, small parrot.

There was Hogwarts; its many turrets and towers as winding and elegant as ever; the lights in the windows seeming warm and welcoming. I couldn't help the small smile that wriggled its way onto my face as I looked at it, comprehending just how much I had missed it, even after everything that had happened.

However, the large figure, who roughly yanked open the door when the carriage rolled to a halt kind of made the cheerfulness die a rather nasty death.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the reviews people! :D They really do make my day! I'm hoping to keep by uploading pace fairly quick but I start college again tomorrow so it might be a little crazy... excuses excuses ;)**

**Wherein I get off to a fabulous start with my new teachers and my jelly disappears.**

"Get out," He grunted,

"Well," I said, giving him a falsely bright smile, "Seeing as you asked so nicely."

I was met with a dark and extremely unamused look. I decided now was as good a time as ever to behave myself.

When Terry, Antony, Padma and I were on the ground, we were jostled with the crowd over towards the main doors to the castle, but instead of a quick walk through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall, we found ourselves in a rough queue.

"What are we waiting for?" Antony said curiously, standing on tiptoes to look towards the castle doors.

"It looks like we're registering or something," Padma said, squinting at the figures standing at the doors. Before either of us could say anything else, I was nearly knocked over by a girl slamming into me. I would have bet my entire Gringotts vault that it was Pansy, and when I turned around with a scowl, I was unfortunately and unpleasantly right.

"Get ready with your stupid excuse, Forester." Pansy hissed, "I won't miss seeing _you_ around here."

"I don't know where you get your wonderful put downs from," I said to her, "Do you and Malfoy get together over summer and make them up? Or was he too busy mashing up schools this year?"

"They're looking at blood statuses?" Antony interrupted, casting a nervous glance towards the doors,

"Probably," I shrugged, then turned to Pansy, who was still standing there. "You've inflicted misery and panic or whatever the hell your aim was. You can go now."

"Why does she think you're Muggle Born?" Terry asked blankly as she stalked off.

"No idea. Probably 'cos I've never corrected her." My eyes fell on the people standing at the doors once again, and not actually recognising any of them as Death Eaters, I turned to Terry, confused.

"Who are they?" I whispered,

"They're called Snatchers." He replied, eyeing them distastefully, "Their job is to round up anyone who is a 'threat' to the wizards and witches of Britain."

"And by threat, you mean Muggle Borns?"

"Exactly."

I looked at them with fresh dislike as they jeered at the students they were talking to.

I thought I recognised one as the man I had seen in Diagon Alley with Jade the day we had gone to get schoolbooks, and my stomach lurched as I realised why he had looked at us so suspiciously. Probably trying to see if we could earn him any money if he took us in as Muggle Borns.

After what felt like far too long a time of standing, my stomach rumbling angrily, we finally got to the steps, Antony being pushed forwards first to face the Snatcher I already knew.

"Name and blood status?" The man asked lazily, playing with a chart in his hands, and barely glancing up,

"Antony Goldstein, Half-blood," Antony said, his face pale, "Magical parents but two Muggle grandparents."

"Would have got them out of my way, I would." The snatcher sniggered, and I felt a thick layer of anger settle on my stomach. Terry's hand tapped my shoulder warningly. Looking questioningly at him he nodded to my hands, which had curled into tight fists.

"Fine." The man was now saying, "Get lost. Next."

I stepped forwards, hoping I would be able to open my mouth without yelling profanities at him.

"Meg Forester." I said sharply. Then, I couldn't resist the word that came out my mouth. "Muggle."

"Oh, we got a funny one here," The snatcher leered, looking at me with something akin to amusement, "Your blood better be as pure as pure if you can make jokes like that."

"I have a witch mother. My father left when I was three. So you better find him and ask first, huh?"

"And your grandparents, missy?"

"Sure. Well, they were definitely Pureblood."

I think he caught the sarcasm in my tone, because he leant closer to me, his leather jacket rasping.

"I'm going to be checking up on you." He breathed, "Meg Forester."

He called for the next person as he shoved me aside and I strolled into the Entrance Hall as if that had gone particularly well.

"You _idiot_, Meg," Antony said the minute he had arrived by my side, "You made an enemy of him! He can twist your family tree to say whatever he wants it to!"

"Oh, let him try," I snorted, waving this aside, "My mum said my dad was a wizard, so I'm fine. He just wanted to be all intimidating."

I hoped I was right.

It was surprising to find the Great Hall so reasonably unchanged after entering the castle the way we had. The ceiling was as see-through as ever, the night sky twinkling with stars that seemed to light up the warm coloured stone of the hall; the great roaring fires illuminating the dark wooden tables.

There was just one key difference.

Up at the staff table was the seat where had Dumbledore once had sat; his great white beard seeming to glow of its own accord; his robes normally midnight blue and scattered with stars, like a typical cartoon of a wizard.

Now, that place was occupied by a much less colourful, and much less cheerful looking teacher. Snape looked down at the people entering the hall; his brows lowered and seemingly oblivious to the horrified glances he was receiving from the students. The other teachers seemed glum; Professor Trelawney was casting dark looks at the newly occupied head teacher's chair, and tiny Professor Flitwick looked on the verge of tears.

"There are four empty seats," I commented, standing in the doorway as we waited for people to sit down, "Hagrid and McGongagall are with the first years. Is Snape still Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? And where's Professor Burbage?"

It didn't appear I was to get my answer, for at that moment a male voice that definitely did not belong to Terry or Antony cut across me.

"You talk that loudly, and I hex you."

I turned to appraise the person who had spoken; an immensely bulky, small man; whose piggy eyes were fixed solely on me.

"And what if you talk?" I finally asked, arching an eyebrow quizzically. Surprisingly, the man giggled.

"Oh, Alecto! There's a live one here!"

That name stirred something in my memory, and as my brain focused on it, a short, dumpy witch muscled her way over. I knew that square face from the wanted posters that had, until recently, littered the wizard community. I also knew it from the night I had been fighting by the Astronomy Tower. The female witch who had tried to curse me. Alecto and Amycus Carrow. The Death Eaters.

Oops.

"She was being rude she was, sister." Amycus leered, smiling at me in a pretty horrible way.

"Ooh, you want a sample of how we treat rude people here, girl?" Alecto tittered, reaching for her wand.

"Not very much, thank you." I said in the politest tone possible, wondering if there was actually a way out of this that was painless. It wasn't looking like it.

"Leave her alone." Terry said, stepping forwards, looking down at the two short Death Eaters with a defiant look that amazed me slightly. I certainly wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of the glare he threw at them.

Amycus however didn't seem quailed. Instead, his gaze lit on somebody in the crowd and he let out a squawk of pleasure.

"Hey, Draco, come over here!" He bellowed, grabbing the tall boy from the crowd and dragging him over. I groaned at the spectacle we were creating. What had my mum said? Behave. Well, I thought it was safe to say I had failed rather amazingly so far.

"What do you say, Draco?" Alecto growled, his hand trapping Malfoy who was looking extremely uncomfortable at the situation he had been thrust into all of a sudden, "Detention for the rude girl?"

"I-"

"Detentions are different now," Amycus interrupted Draco with another giggle, "_Much_ more painful."

"Want to bet?" I muttered, unable to help myself. My mind was on the pickling of rat brains I once had to do for Snape. Amycus let out an angry growl.

"She's fine." If I hadn't been looking at Draco, I wouldn't have believed he was the one who spoken in such a strong, determined voice. He looked quite surprised at himself too. "She's fine."

And before either of the Death Eaters could say anything, he wriggled from Amycus' grasp and seized my arm, steering me into the Great Hall.

"You choose the best places to get a smart mouth." He muttered, his grip on me not particularly gentle.

"And you choose the best places to fall into a cowardly silence." I snapped back, trying to free myself, and failing,

"You call that a cowardly silence?" He asked, sounding amazed.

"No, I call happily watching a bloodthirsty werewolf get hold of me a cowardly silence." I snarled, finally loosening his grip. He looked at me for a second, then narrowed his eyes.

"Guess you can get yourself out of trouble from now on then, Forester."

"That's usually how it works, _Malfoy_." I snapped back, "What with other people standing and gaping, huh?"

We both stalked off at the same time, scowling darkly ahead of us.

I glowered at the Ravenclaw table, and with no deliberation I sat facing away from the Slytherin table, frowning at the empty plate before me.

Antony, Padma and Terry joined me shortly, but none of them seemed to have anything to say. Nor did many other people really. The happy chattering that usually occupied this hall was now replaced by panicked looks darting to the Death Eaters who were now taking their seats, and hoarse mutterings. I had suddenly lost my appetite.

A line of students entered through the double doors a moment later; tiny little first years who were glancing around as Professor McGonagall led them stiffly towards the front of the hall. They looked terrified. And, for the first time ever, I think they had just cause to be.

The Sorting Hat Ceremony seemed ridiculously out of place with the Carrows and Snape sitting at the staff table, and Professor McGonagall certainly looked disconsolate as she unwound the scroll of first year names and told them to stay where they were.

A moment later, the battered Sorting Hat, perched on its stool opened the tear in its mouth, its harsh voice cutting through the hall as it recited,

"_History repeats itself and the devils are in the walls;_

_Uniting within will save us, but stay alone and Hogwarts falls._

_Yet again I am to quarter, against my wishes and my will;_

_Whether Slytherin or Hufflepuff, we must stay together still._

_A wise man once said that hope is found even in the darkest place;_

_So stick together and the light it brings shall fill up every space."_

"Morbid." Antony commented over the clapping that was punctured still with the rough whispers and nervous glances.

"Well, I think we've decided which side the hat is on." I whispered back, shutting up instantly when Alecto looked my way. She gave me a wide toothed grin that didn't look the least bit friendly. I hastily dropped my gaze.

The Sorting went on with the calling of a first year to try on the hat, and the usual cheering from the house that had just gained a new member, but the presence of the Death Eaters was like a dark stain on beautiful material. I was sat tensely waiting for Snape to stand up and address the school, and found myself staring intently at his dark eyes, which were fixed on the new students; slightly narrowed. They looked as cold and lifeless as ever.

But when the last name had been called, and they had scurried to their table, Snape didn't give a speech like Dumbledore had, which I was quite thankful about. I had had enough of drawing comparisons between the Hogwarts I had loved, and this one, which seemed like something from a really bad dream.

Instead, the food rose up almost immediately, and the cautious talking that had begun in the second between the Sorting ending and the feast beginning rose slightly; people evidently emboldened by the sight of food.

I stared at the feast before me, and with a heavy sigh began to help myself to it, although steering clear of the roast potatoes. After pickling rat's brains and drawing a similarity to them and potatoes, I had rather lost my liking for them.

I let the rather large elephant in the room to be ignored for a while longer as I ate; ignoring Snape and the Death Eaters and instead concentrating on eating and talking. Antony kept us mostly entertained with stories from his trip to Australia, where they had actually encountered a rather riled Lethifold.

"You're kidding?" I asked snorting over my pudding of jelly and ice cream, "That's too bad. Wasn't that the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson you weren't listening in because of Padma?"

"No," Antony laughed, as Padma giggled, "That was the lesson where _you_ threw bunches of parchment at Malfoy."

"Oh." I said, my spirits puncturing slightly. "Yeah."

Before I could finish my jelly, the plates cleared. I let out a grunt of irritation as silence swept the hall, and Severus Snape got to his feet.

A surge of hatred swept over me, not just because of the fact my pudding had disappeared. Obviously. This man had murdered someone; had cut their life short, and here he was, addressing a crowded room of students. It was miserable to think just how badly the world must have been flipped upside down for him to get away with it.

"There are two new rules this term." Snape said in an icy voice, and was met with an equally icy silence. "One. Any student found trying to leave the school grounds without permission will be treated with the...upmost discipline."

He let the mutters that rose up at this continue, and I was left wondering darkly why he thought it likely students would want to leave. Something told me it wasn't because of homework overload.

"Two." He said sharply, and the whispers stopped immediately. "Anyone with any information on who the Ministry has deemed...undesirable shall come forwards to me or any member of staff _immediately_. Severe consequences shall be handed out to those who are discovered to have withheld information."

"'Undesirable?'" I repeated blankly in the direction of Terry, who gave me a look that told me I was being dense.

"Who do you think?"

"Oh." I said, my mind remembering Harry's many wanted posters.

"I needn't remind you that the stringent safety measures that have been placed on this castle are made with nothing in mind except your protection." Snape was saying calmly. Behind him Professor McGonagall shot him a dry, tight-lipped look. "I therefore expect you all to respect and abide by them."

I couldn't help it. I turned round to flick a quick glance at Malfoy. I was met with a rather amused eyebrow raise in return, that seemed to be doubting my ability to respect and abide by rules. I remembered I was angry with him and spun round again.

"As you can see we have two new teachers this term." I wondered if anyone else had noticed the slight hesitation in the word 'teachers'. However Snape's eyes still remained impassive and cold. "Alecto Carrow will replace Professor Charity Burbage as the teacher for Muggle Studies, and Amycus Carrow will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, replacing Professor Lupin." I definitely did not miss the slight sneer that wormed its way into Snape's tone as he mentioned the name of our last Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I felt a small swoop of disappointment as I realised Professor Lupin was indeed absent from the top table.

"He was the best teacher in this place." Antony lamented in an undertone, matching my thoughts.

Nobody clapped for the new teachers, not even the staff, who were looking as if they had been told they no longer had holidays.

"I should also inform you that Muggle Studies has become a compulsory subject this year," Snape said in a soft voice, that somehow rose above the small whisperings that started at these words, "And I therefore must remind you that your attendance will obviously be as flawless as it is in the rest of your subjects."

I decided not to point out to Terry or Antony that my attendance wasn't exactly golden anyway. Last year, for example, I had missed an Astronomy lesson just to spend time with Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. A pang of irritation hit my heart as I realised I didn't want to think about things like that; given that it involved guilt, Malfoy and silly teenage feelings all in one go.

"Now get off to your dormitories." Snape was saying dismissively, and I found myself wishing ridiculously hard for somebody to say 'pip pip', or at least 'nitwit, blubber, oddment and tweak.'

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Terry snorted as we got to our feet, "I wonder what the 'defence' will have to do with anything?"

"Maybe it will be how we can seize the nearest Death Eater and kick them out of here." Antony said, sending an uncharacteristically dark glare towards the staff table.

"And compulsory Muggle Studies?" I asked as I ducked around some fifth years, "What kind of poison are they going to spread about them?"

Neither Terry nor Antony had an answer, but I could tell we were all thinking the same thing. Hogwarts had changed. And unquestionably not for the better.

Surprisingly, I was cheered up marginally by meeting one of the things that I had put incredibly high on my list of things to hate last year.

The bronze eagle door knocker to Ravenclaw tower stretched its wings as it caught sight of the approaching students and cawed happily.

"You've been waiting for this moment all summer, right?" I sniggered, and it glared at me, "Just making up loads and loads of riddles? You realise only one person needs to answer it, and then the whole student body will just muscle their way in?"

"Then _you_ better get it right." It croaked, and waited for my squawk of protest before launching into riddle-mode, "Here I am, a word of three, add two and fewer there will be."

I groaned, not surprised at the lack of inspiration I got from his words.

"Ok..." I muttered to myself under my breath, ignoring the beginning of a pile up of students behind me. "A word of three...adding two letters makes less...that can't be right-"

"I know the answer." Antony said, and I shot him a glare until he recoiled.

"Well, you usually say the answer in the riddle," I contemplated aloud, scowling at the eagle knocker, who rolled its eyes skywards, "Three words...and fewer...oh!" I clapped a hand to my forehead as it dawned on me,

"Fewer!" I exclaimed happily, "I mean... the answer is the word 'few'!"

"Yes, well done." It said tiredly, as if that was the easiest thing in the world, and the door swung open. I lead the way, beaming.

"You're getting better at it," Antony smirked, evidently very pleased he had worked it out first,

"Quit the condescending tone," I grinned, "I'm now abandoning you."

"Night." Antony yawned, uncaringly.

I left them in the common room, jogging up to my dormitory and smiling in relief as I saw my four-poster bed; totally unchanged with its massive, squashy pillows and soft duvet, waiting just for me.

With no further invite, I collapsed onto it with a massive sigh, working my hands under the pillow and finding relief in the coolness. Maybe I could just stay here all year. It was seriously tempting.

My mind was a jumbled mess of confusion, that I reflected on as I lay there, incredibly comfortable. I wanted so desperately to find some shred of happiness in being here, which I considered I would find with my friends being here too. But it was too different, and it felt so wrong being here with Snape standing at the front of the hall; along with the two Carrows so eager to inflict pain on people. I didn't want to think about what their lessons would be like. I was half-thinking they were going to make Umbridge look like the nicest, most caring person in the world.

And underneath that was that same anger boiling in me over Draco. I had to stop thinking about him, but once again my opinion of him was changing. I had been so determined to imagine that I couldn't speak to him again, but it had been scary how remarkably easy and dangerous it had been to fall back into the relationship I had always had with him. Bar the kissing of course. It made me furious to think him considering that one simple, written apology would make me fine again, and I hated that I acted like I was fine. I really needed to learn how to ignore him.

Before I fell asleep, I had the tiny, traitorous thought that I didn't actually want to.


	4. Chapter 4

**So I wrote this chapter and went to bed...then had a dream I was late for Muggle Studies xD The person who was supposed to be Alecto Carrow was my old handwriting teacher. I **_**knew**_** she was a Death Eater.**

**Anyway. **

**Sorry this one was so long in coming! College is back and as ugly as ever xD **

**In which Snargaluff pod's get angry, friendship is divided by an ugly yellow umbrella, and I decide Death Eaters are really not good teachers.**

Breakfast with neither Snape nor the Carrows present at the staff table made me feel a lot happier in the Great Hall the next morning.

I had once again stuck to the logical tactic of facing away from the Slytherin table that day. Traitorous thoughts my brain had issued last night aside, I was considering it to be a lot healthier to ignore the certain blond Slytherin my mind kept getting stuck on.

The lack of Death Eaters and Slytherins in my view had obviously made me drop my guard.

When a school owl dive-bombed down next to me, I let out a shriek that caused several Ravenclaws sitting nearby to flick me irritated glances.

"That's how the post is delivered around here, Meg." Antony grinned as, glowering, I reached forwards to examine the owl's delivery, trying to pretend I hadn't knocked orange juice over the table from jumping in fright.

"It's from my mum," I said suspiciously, recognising the handwriting and now eyeing the package that was about the length of my arm. The owl hooted as if annoyed at my lack of gratefulness, and took off in the direction of the Owlery, seeming unimpressed with its reception.

"Is it a mini broomstick?" Antony grinned, leaning closer to get a better look, "Or a massive pencil? Or a-"

He cut himself short when I ripped the paper off the contents and he saw it was a violently yellow, and extremely hideous umbrella.

"What..." He trailed off, evidently deciding between revulsion and amusement.

"What on earth is that?" Terry finished for him, sending it a disgusted look from over the top of his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"It's an umbrella," I said, with a shrug, "What did you think it was?"

"Something born from a severe lack of taste?" Terry answered immediately, seeming to be fighting a grin.

"Side-splitting." I sighed as Antony snorted, "This is actually the umbrella I bought when I was seven with the Galleons I had got from cleaning Mrs Abinthy's cauldrons."

"So you were as sane then as you are now?" Antony laughed and I shot him a scowl, my reminiscing ruined,

"Be quiet, you unsentimental _chizpurfle_." Was the only retort I had up my sleeve.

It turned out that Terry and Antony's mockery of the umbrella came back to haunt them, because when we opened the doors to the grounds to walk to Herbology, a fine mist had set in; raindrops falling unsteadily towards the ground, growing in strength as more grey clouds rolled over the hills, clashing with the livid green scenery quite spectacularly.

"Ha." I said, drawing the umbrella out and opening it, "Bet you're jealous _now_."

"Well, no actually," Terry said, taking a few determined steps ahead of me as if he were embarrassed to be seen walking by my side, "I think I'll take getting wet through over using _that_."

Antony looked like he couldn't agree more.

It was therefore a very sodden Antony and Terry who arrived at the greenhouses a while later, a considerable amount ahead of myself, who was indeed dry, although slightly put out.

"Greenhouse six today, people." Professor Sprout said when she caught sight of the class winding their way over, taking a key from her belt and unlocking one of the warm, humid greenhouses.

"Let me see," Antony muttered, shivering slightly, "Greenhouse five had Venomous Tentacula, which tried to eat you, by the way, Meg, fully grown mandrakes _and_ Devil's Snare." He stopped listing with his fingers to grimace, "What on _earth_ is Greenhouse six going to have in it?"

"A giant, Malfoy-eating monster?" I suggested hopefully as I caught sight of the Slytherins approaching.

But it turned out Greenhouse six housed stumps of seemingly harmless small trunks of wood, in pots scattered around the tables.

"Now, you've met these before," Professor Sprout said as we all filed in, "But they've grown larger since then, and with their maturity comes a higher level in their aggressiveness, moving them here. Who can tell me what they are?"

"Snargaluff Pods." Terry said, and I noticed he wasn't standing particularly close to the table, a look of revulsion on his face.

"There just lumps of wood," I reminded him, and he sent me an expression that made me suddenly doubt myself.

"Correct, Boot, five points for Ravenclaw."

"Yes." I grinned appreciatively as Professor Sprout carried on talking. My eyes fell on Malfoy's pale face and I realised that house points weren't really the most important thing ever anymore with everything that was going on. Not that it had really ever been my most cared about thing in life to begin with.

It seemed I had definitely underestimated the capacity for foulness that the Snargaluff pod had. We were set in groups of six, each with the Snargaluff plant before us, and were tasked with getting to the pods inside the stumps. Once I had been splattered with the green pods that were wet and wriggling, I realised I had done this before, and certainly not enjoyed it any more than I did now.

"Stand back!" Professor Sprout cried, hurrying over to our pod and beating down the main root of the plant with a trowel, "They get angry when you disturb them!"

"You don't say," I said bitterly, trying to pick Snargaluff out my hair.

The lesson ended just as the Snargaluff plant grabbed the arm of my robes. Once I had been freed by Professor Sprout, the entire class had left and the next group of students made up of first years were queuing outside. They looked alarmed as I ran past them, my robes in tatters and one of my fingers bleeding.

Therefore it turned out that I was running rather late for my first Muggle Studies lesson quite by accident as I ran up through the castle; nursing my arm remorsefully. I had never been to this area of the castle before, having never taken the subject, so it naturally took me a while to locate the classroom, nearly running into Peeves who was busy graffiting a blackboard in a deserted classroom. I shut the door again as quietly as I could. It was undeniably _not_ the best time to run into him.

By the time I had found where I was supposed to be, I had missed twenty minutes of the lesson.

"Sorry I'm-" I began as I banged the door to the classroom open. I was cut short when a hex slammed into the wood beside me, making me leap in surprise,

"That could have hit me!" I squawked at Alecto Carrow, as the class turned to look at me pitifully. I suppose they were already filled in with her methods of teaching.

"And so it will if you don't sit down now!" She giggled, and before I could register the shock of having a teacher trying to jinx me, she hurled another hex in my direction. I dodged it and hurtled towards a free chair, diving into it and far too late in realising just who it was that I had collapsed next to.

"Stop looking at me." I snapped in an undertone to Draco Malfoy, slamming my bag up onto the desk.

"It's hard when you have Snargaluff pod in your hair." He replied, nodding towards my head.

"Oh."

Professor Carrow seemed to have regained control of the lesson, as everyone was facing her again; faces grave.

"Now where were we before the rude little girl came in?" She tittered, drumming her stubby fingers on the desk. I kept the retort I had thought of in my head, where I decided it should probably belong for the rest of this particular class.

"Please, Professor," Pansy Parkinson chimed in, "You were saying how Mudbloods are Muggle criminals," She turned round to shoot me a particularly nasty smirk. Although not at all insulted, I suddenly felt rather sick. I began unpacking my bag noisily, so I could attempt to tune out what Alecto began to say.

"Ah yes. Twenty points for you, little girly. Muggles are brainless and grubby animals; who have polluted everything that we wizards strive to live with-"

Behave, I repeated calmly, concentrating on breathing, I said I'd behave. I stared down at my nails, focusing on picking out the one that was nicest. After a lesson of Herbology, it was going to be a difficult choice, when they were all rather grimy and muddy. The one that had got cut slightly from the Snargaluff pod was still bleeding. I wrapped it in my robes sullenly.

"They have stolen our right to living, just as Mudbloods have stolen our magic-"

It crossed my mind how unusual it was that Malfoy was sitting there, shoulders hunched and fists clenched, almost matching my stance as if he really didn't want to be hearing this either. Or perhaps he just had stomach ache.

"-Therefore we must re-establish the old order of worming out Mudbloods and Muggles-"

"Please, _Professor_," Neville interrupted, his imitation of Pansy really quite good, "How much Muggle blood do you and your brother have?"

There was about five seconds of tense silence.

"How DARE you?" Alecto shrieked, her voice rising to a horrible high pitch. Several people sank lower in their chairs. A few people twitched as if they wanted to head for the door. Without a second's warning, she slashed her wand through the air and Neville was flung backwards; letting out a hoarse yell as a cut slashed its way viciously across his face,

"Detention!" Alecto roared gleefully, even though there wasn't a single noise being issued from the watching students, letting her voice echo horribly off the walls. "You come along to the staff room tomorrow night, little boy!"

I had the sneaking suspicion she was trying to provoke him further, as Neville was anything but little. But a tiny light of hope lit in my heart that perhaps with teachers like McGonagall there if Neville did indeed go to staff room, things wouldn't get too out of hand.

Whatever the result would be, it was a rather shell-shocked class that left at the end of the hour, almost piling on top of each other in the attempt to leave the class first. I was rather slow, my mind stuck back on the awful words Alecto had been saying. My thoughts went back to Matthew all the way in Braxton-On-Sea. How different was he to anyone here besides there being not a magical drop of blood in his veins? Who the hell cared? My hands were shaking with anger so much that it was becoming quite difficult to stuff my parchment back into my bag.

"You dropped this." A quill was waved under my nose, and I snatched it back from Malfoy without glancing at him,

"Thanks." I said shortly, tossing the bag on my back and making for the door.

"So you're going to ignore me now?" He said softly, following me out the classroom,

"Yep."

"Until you see fit to start yelling at me again?"

"I don't know if you got the hint, but I'm really not up for talking to you right now." I snapped, walking as quickly as I could manage without breaking into a run. It seemed Malfoy's legs were a lot longer than mine, for he kept up annoyingly easily.

"You got my letter?"

"Yeah." My voice wasn't losing its sharpness given the anger thundering around inside me, and I hadn't lost the disinclination to talk to Malfoy either. "All four words of it. That was really _brave_."

"So you're angry with me?" He sounded like he was actually confused, which prodded me out of my huffy determination to remain monosyllabic all the more.

"Didn't you read _my_ brave letter?"

"I may have skimmed it." He said. I finally stopped walking to turn on him. There was a small glint in his otherwise dead eyes.

"Was that a joke?" I asked uncertainly.

He shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad my pain is poking back the old Malfoy into existence once more." I began walking again, unfortunately with no idea as to where Antony and Terry would be right now, and therefore with no way to lose Malfoy quicker unless we ran into Pansy. That might work. I wasn't sure whose company I would prefer right now. The minute I thought that I immediately knew my answer, however reluctantly it came. Malfoy. It wasn't even a hard choice.

"Do I have to apologise to your face before you stop snapping at me?" Malfoy was saying, and I tuned in quickly, a little flushed.

"I'm sure that me snapping at you is the least of your troubles," I failed at suppressing the small burst of inquisitiveness as I flicked him a curious look, "I'm guessing you didn't go to Hawaii or something over summer?"

"How did you guess?" He muttered sullenly.

"Hey, no sympathy from me," I said cheerily, although my heart was differing on that matter, "It's your own fault, you know."

"And how is that?" He enquired coldly.

"_You_ fixed the Vanishing Cabinet that allowed the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts and kill the headmaster which made Hogwarts the rubbish place it is now, and with no Dumbledore, You Know Who is pretty much free to do whatever the hell he wants, such as take over the Ministry." I thought this was reason enough, but the sulky feelings inside of me added a final point, "And you'll also get no sympathy from me because I got no sympathy from you with Greyback."

"Who says there was no sympathy?" Malfoy asked as we reached the end of a corridor; the Grand Staircase spanning before us, the portraits as bright and talkative as ever.

"Well, there certainly wasn't anybody stopping him-" I cut myself off as, almost as if his hand was acting of its own accord, Malfoy reached across and pulled out some of the Snargaluff pod that was entangled my hair.

I blinked uselessly, completely taken aback. My mind had gone oddly blank all of a sudden.

"Oh." I finally mumbled haltingly, suddenly a little flustered. "Um. Thanks."

A strong wave of familiarity crashed into me as we stood there awkwardly, and I realised I was reminiscing about the last time we had been staring at each other like this, in a crowded corridor after I had just received detention from Snape for swearing too loudly. That detail aside, that incident was one of the first times I had been a little freaked out at how easily Malfoy understood what I meant or was feeling underneath all my bravado and joking.

I felt a stab of anger once again as I realised he actually didn't seem to quite get it this time around.

"I have to go." I tried to say in a determined voice that would brook no argument. Instead, it came out as a frail squeak, but Malfoy seemed to have grasped my intentions nonetheless, as he let me walk away without another word.

I didn't know if he was trying to make me more forthcoming by talking to me, or if he was just oblivious to the fact that I had sincerely meant what I had written to him. And if I had meant what I said about not caring about him and wanting to ignore him, which, I thought irritably, of _course_ I had, then why was it so easy for me to get so flustered when he leant a little too close to me, or looked me right in the eye?

I kicked a suit of armour as I passed it to vent some frustration, and it let out a loud clanking shout in objection. I hurried my pace in case Filch was nearby.

By the time I had actually found Terry and Antony in the Entrance Hall, break was over, which did absolutely nothing for my mood.

I was however, slightly cheered by the prospect of Potions next lesson, with just Professor Slughorn, as Snape was no longer gracing us with his presence. What a pity.

The classroom seemed alien after the absence of lessons for a whole summer; the air unusually clean and fresh as we walked in.

"Good morning, witches and wizards!" Slughorn's voice called jovially from a squashy armchair with plump and fluffy cushions that were not entirely unlike the owner, "Good summers, I presume? Leave your things at your places and gather round this desk, please."

There was a small scramble as everyone bagged the desk nearest to them, a few Slytherins glaring at people who were a little too near them. I managed to dump my bag down next to Terry, and edged towards the table Slughorn had indicated, a little inquisitive.

"We're going to have a bit of a fun lesson today," Slughorn was saying cordially, swelling his chest as if he were very pleased with himself, "Nothing too taxing, as it's the first lesson back, but I'd say it is a _challenge_."

"Oh no." I muttered, foreseeing a repetition of the last 'challenge' for a vial of Felix Felicis that had ended in me knocking stewed Horned Slugs all over myself. Not pretty.

"You are each going to brew a Strengthening Solution, a perfect example demonstrated here, in the time of twenty minutes. Ah, yes," Slughorn said with a dramatic flourish, for Terry had made a doubtful noise, "Although this type of brew is expected to take a mediocre potioneer forty minutes, I want to see what you're capable of under pressure. Good practice for the NEWTs. And I will be awarding three prizes, for first, second and third place for the ones brewed best!"

"Well, first and second prize are immediately out of my reach." I muttered to Terry, shrewdly thinking this over, as if it were the most important decision of my life. Prizes did always provide me with an incentive. "Maybe third prize..."

"In your dreams, Forester." Pansy hissed in my ear,

"Oh, go bury your head in some poison or something." I said irritably, just as Slughorn continued,

"First prize shall be a box of my rather favourite Crystallized Pineapple. Second, this bag of handsome Cinnamon Pixies, and third a small box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans."

"Sweets!" I whispered enthusiastically to Terry who snorted. It seemed, that after seven years of being educated here, a teacher appeared to finally know how to motivate me.

"You have twenty minutes!" Slughorn called out, raising a finger as people began to edge backwards in the direction of the store cupboards, "Begin!"

I think everyone had dispensed with their pride at the news of there sweets being on the line, for the mad scramble to the ingredient's cupboard turned out to be a little vicious. I took the time to mentally congratulate my sharp elbows as I heaped some jars into my grasp and ran back to my desk; actually looking up to read the board's instructions for the first time since...well. Ever.

Whilst cutting up dandelion roots with relish, a stray thought wriggled its way into my head at how odd Potions felt without Malfoy sitting next to me, what with the copious hours we had spent side by side every week, those lessons slowly exposing me less and less to his prickly nature as he seemed to retire into himself; his complexion looking sicker and sicker as the months went by. Damn. I was thinking about him again.

I tried to distract myself with the prospects of sweets, and therefore skinning my Shrivelfig with as much care as possible.

"That isn't an ingredient for Strengthening Solution." A voice said in my ear.

I nearly cut my own finger off, and spun around to find myself face to face with Malfoy. Again.

"Go _away_," I said sharply, abandoning pretences as I waved the knife at him, "I am really not in the mood for you today. Or ever, really."

"And yet you still talk to me."

"You know, I prefer the horrible remarks you used to make," I commented, ignoring his sadly accurate point, "You being determinedly friendly is making me exceedingly uncomfortable."

"It didn't always." He said softly.

I slammed the knife onto the tabletop more forcefully than I had intended, my head reeling slightly.

"You have no right to bring that up," I said, turning back to him, trying to conceal just how furious I was, "And let me get this straight. Anything that happened last term is history. And believe me, it is _not_ going to be repeating itself."

Draco looked at me, and I saw the return of that expressionless look that so constantly plagued his face. I realised I had just shut out any of the odd talkative side of him he had been showing me since this morning. I hardened my heart before regret could wriggle its way in.

"Fine," He said quietly, as if he really couldn't care less, and walked away in the direction of his table; where I noticed he hadn't even started the work.

I pulled my eyes off him, sighing heavily and turned back to my cauldron.

To find out it had overheated.

"No." I moaned, prodding it with the ladle in the hope of reviving it, and succeeding in knocking the base with my hand, so that a large splatter slopped out; hitting my umbrella and reducing it to singed mush in seconds.

I didn't know whether to be sad or not.

It unsurprisingly transpired that even third prize was beyond my reach, but Terry, who had won the Crystallized Pineapple to nobody's surprise, cheered me up vastly as we walked back to the common room for our free period, sharing the prize between us.

"Are you ok?" He suddenly asked as we headed up the staircase in Ravenclaw Tower.

"Hm?" I asked, a little side tracked by the confectionary I had stuffed into my mouth,

"Well, it was just you talking to Malfoy earlier." Terry shrugged, "I didn't hear what was happening, but underneath the joking you looked a bit sad. You should just ignore him, you know."

"Oh." I was so completely taken aback that, 'oh' was the only word I could muster. I pretended my mouth was too full to comment any further.

I was a little concerned with how transparent I was being at the moment. Normally, I wouldn't care, but with all the thoughts that plagued my mind that I didn't fully understand, I wasn't at all comfortable with people so easily reading me. Of course, Terry was an observant person, but what if Malfoy had realised underneath my angry speech during that lesson that I had been the same upset person from the beginning of the summer? Not that he had been around to see that. One of the weird things was, I sometimes felt like I was mourning the Draco I once knew.

I still had to struggle through a particularly difficult Transfiguration lesson and a Charms class that had me too near to Pansy and her snide remarks for my liking. My best comfort was that Defence Against the Dark Arts was not on my timetable until Wednesday, so I was free of Amycus Carrow until then, as they didn't appear at dinner once more.

All the same, it was hard to shift the depressed mood that had clouded over me after my two conversations with Draco. One of the best reasons I could come up with for my mood was that I was confused, again. And that just made me frustrated.

I lay in bed at the end of the day, staring at the raftered ceiling and trying to banish Malfoy's face from my mind. The worst thing was him acting like everything was fine. And because of that, I found I didn't understand him quite so easily anymore, as if the Draco I had once known and loved to hate had really gone. And I didn't like the hollow feeling that left in my chest.

Flicking through the day in my mind, I decided now was as good as time as ever to go to sleep and leave today behind me.

All in all, it had not been the greatest first day back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Me again :D Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I'm glad you're all enjoying this as much as the first story! Sorry it's a bit short this time around...I'm a little too fond of a big statement chapter ending :P**

**In which a gargoyle sniggers at me and the rebellion begins.**

Wednesday was going rather normally until copies of _The Quibbler _and the _Daily Prophet_ thudded onto the table at Terry's elbow, causing my glass of grapefruit juice to ripple rather ominously.

"Why are you getting the _Prophet_?" I asked scornfully as Terry ripped off the binding and unwound it eagerly, "It's not like there's going to be anything truthful in there."

"It lets us know what the Ministry is doing." Terry answered astutely, "And I'm getting _The Quibbler_ so we know about all the more important stuff that goes unmentioned in this one."

"Sound like a waste of money if you ask me." I said lightly, buttering some toast. I was failing to see why Terry would want double whammies of bad news, no matter from which paper it came from.

"This is actually quite interesting," Terry murmured, looking down at the copy of _The Quibbler_.

"Why are you reading that, really?" I groaned, looking at the front page, "Just 'cos Luna's in our house-"

"It's actually a lot more factual nowadays," Terry said lightly, "Look."

He pushed it towards me and prodded an article at the top of a page.

"Death Eater sightings." I read, "Well that's quite brave of the editor."

"Keep reading," Terry sighed, "They actually sound pretty accurate."

I glanced down at the article, first glancing at the moving images and feeling my heart swoop as I recognised Lucius Malfoy's picture. Dragging my eyes from it, I studied the actual writing:

_It has been reported by an unnamed source that recent Death Eater activity may be brewing in the county of Wiltshire, as several known accomplices of He Who Must Not Be Named have been sighted in the area. Among these are Lucius Malfoy, who lives in the same county, and Augustus Rookwood, both confirmed Death Eaters. Citizens of the area are advised to remain cautious and vigilant._

_For advice on how to stay safe if you feel endangered see page 4, overleaf of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks editorial. _

I set down _The Quibbler_, my mind busy with the main chunk of information I had retained from it; the fact that the Malfoy family lived in Wiltshire, where supposedly a group of Death Eaters were currently hiding out. I looked up at the Slytherin table and found Draco looking gloomily at his breakfast. Maybe my theory about Death Eaters sitting in his house over summer hadn't been entirely inaccurate.

"More Muggle Borns are on the run," Terry was saying, perusing the newspaper once again, "The ones that showed up to the inspections look like they've been carted off to Azkaban."

"That's terrible." I said quietly, dropping my gaze from Malfoy the second he looked my way. There was that angry twisting in my stomach again.

Since between us, Terry and I had successfully killed any happy atmosphere, we ate the rest of breakfast in silence, and when everyone started to move towards lessons I realised with another pang of melancholy that the first lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts.

I had heard a few rumours about the lessons Amycus was giving, most of which I certainly hoped were made up by Slytherins trying to scare everyone, but even if they were remotely true, I decided that the other Professor Carrow would make his sister look just lovely.

Antony and I arrived on the third floor corridor to see a large group of students already queuing up outside the classroom, looking a little pale. Among them I spotted Neville, who still had the rather deep gash on his face. But there was a look of grim determination on his character I had never really seen before. It was almost hard to recognise him. I dismally thought that this period of time was probably going to change a lot of people. Just look at Malfoy.

I realised I had halted next to a very glum looking Seamus Finnigan, and I saw he was standing alone, his usual smiling face absent. Who'd have guessed my thought about changed people would be backed up quite so strongly.

"Where's Dean, Seamus?" I enquired, noticing that the tall, friendly boy who was such good friends with Seamus was currently missing.

"Muggle Born." Seamus muttered to me quietly, an atypically dismal look crossing his features, "He's on the run."

"Has he contacted you?" I asked, completely aghast at the thought of Dean hiding out somewhere in the countryside in order to stay safe.

"Nah." Seamus seemed to be trying to stay light-hearted, but that dark look was still in his eyes. "He'd be mad to try it-"

He was interrupted by the classroom door slamming open, and Amycus Carrow was revealed; leering all over his unpleasant face.

"Get in here, whelps." Was his lovely way of greeting the class.

Antony flipped me a quick look as if he expected me to lose it there and then but I pretended I had found that amusing as the class filed in, looking nervous. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Malfoy entering the classroom, all mildly friendly signs I had seen from him before now truly and utterly gone. He looked miserable.

Unsure if this was a good thing for my mood or not, I did my best to ignore him, and instead headed for a seat I considered to be relatively out of the firing line and not so far the back that I would be branded as a trouble maker.

I did my greatest to look like a good student who would behave herself, but I think Amycus recognised me from that fiasco in the Entrance Hall at the start of term, for a nasty glint lit in his piggy eyes as they grazed over me.

"Since you've all gorn and sat down," He wheezed, "You can go and stand up again."

Nobody dared to mutter as chairs were pushed back; scraping horribly against the floor. I wondered why I had the sudden desire to giggle.

"We're gunna be doing a spell that none of your other teachers will 'ave been brave enough to do." He sniggered, and I shot Terry a curious glance. A few seats away I heard an odd guffawing sound. Flicking a glance over my shoulder, I saw Crabbe and Goyle were looking positively excited. Between them, never looking less in charge, Malfoy was looking a little ill.

"What d'ya say to waking you lot up to a little practicing with an Unforgiveable Curse?" Amycus leered, seeming to be under the impression that this was such a foreign, horrible idea we would all collapse in terror. However, my mind simply went instantly to the mental image I had gained from the fourth year of Dean Thomas hopping around the classroom singing the nation anthem under the Imperius Curse.

I couldn't help it. I let out what could only be described as a very nervous, highly strung snigger. Even as thick as he appeared, I doubted Amycus had taken it as a squeak of fright.

He slowly looked over at me, evidently trying to be imposing, and I fought the desire to laugh all the more.

"Sorry," I said quietly, not trusting myself with a higher volume, "It's just...a teacher _has_ shown us one before."

"Meg." Antony muttered warningly, and I shut up.

"Well you can see how you find another one can't you?" Amycus bellowed and despite his distance from me, my ears started ringing. A few people jumped. "And maybe you can demonstrate its effects!"

"No thanks." I whispered. I looked up to see that Amycus had heard me. At least, the look in his eyes was far from friendly.

Any inclination to laugh vanished instantly.

"We're going to be practicing a very special curse today, class." Amycus bawled, his hoarse voice horribly loud as he continued to look at me, his eyes glinting, "And we like to call it _Crucio_!"

I had about three seconds to dive out the way.

Somewhere between me seeing his curse flying in my direction and me hitting the ground hard; jarring my knees, I randomly wondered how much hope my mum had actually had when she had asked me to behave.

Amycus didn't seem particularly disheartened in missing me, and I was left to assume that he would probably wait for another time. More things for me to look forward to.

"Partner up children!" He screamed, "Let's see who can hurt their partner the most by the end of the lesson!"

Everyone gaped at him, as if kind of hoping he was joking. When nobody moved for a good few minutes, Amycus moved forwards; heading straight towards me.

"It's not 'ard, children." He grated, seizing me roughly by the arm and dragging me backwards. I suppose I hadn't given him much cause to like me. "You go with _him_, girlie. We'll be 'ere waiting for a demonstration."

For a moment that made my heart feel like it had stopped, I thought he was steering me towards Draco, who was looking as alarmed as I was. But then I found myself facing Crabbe, and I nearly felt like laughing again. I mean, why on earth should I be worried about a person who could barely string two words together, let alone hex me?

And it turns out I'm an idiot.

Despite the fact that every eye on the room was trained on us, and despite the fact that even trying to curse me was as illegal as anything, Crabbe looked straight at me, his face breaking into a smile that was almost a mirror of Amycus's expression and bellowed, "_CRUCIO!"_

I was too shocked to even move, but it seemed the large part of him that was a total fool caused him to miss, and I simply stared as the chair next to me shattered; splinters rocketing around the room with an ear-splitting bang that somehow failed to make me jump. I couldn't believe I was here, in this situation, with the teacher crowing gleefully, encouraging Crabbe to try and jinx me again.

"Leave her alone!"

For a wild moment I thought it was Draco who had spoken. But then Neville shoved past him, and I recalled bitterly that with Draco that kind of thing didn't happen.

"You want to be next?" Amycus roared, and for some reason his loud, blustering voice jarred me back to life. I dragged my eyes from Crabbe, my heart pounding furiously.

"If you want us to retaliate with an Unforgivable Curse, you're wrong." I said quietly, surprised at the way my voice was shaking.

"And d'ya know what I think?" Amycus sneered, leaning towards me, "I think you two are going to be a lot of trouble. What d'ya say to a detention, girlie?"

I decided firmly that a polite 'no thank you' was not going to quite cut it.

"Fine." I finally snapped, and before I had quite caught up with my brain, my legs had marched me over to my desk; where I snatched up my bag and headed straight for the door; not even pausing to catch Antony's eyes. I had to admit I did slow slightly as I passed by Draco; my shoulder brushing against his. But I was far too angry to look at his eyes. I wasn't in the mood to see that weak, sorrowful look in them. Instead I looked at his hands, and noted uncaringly that they were balled into fists.

Once out in the corridor, the cooler air calmed my hot face slightly, but did nothing to deter me from the direction I was marching in as I stormed down the corridor; leaving the deathly quiet of the classroom behind me.

I knew I was half-fuelled by the anger that had sparked from the events of the lesson, but underneath it, it was the same fury that stemmed from everything that had happened these past few months, and the uncontrollable, desperate sadness my heart was weighted with when I thought over how Hogwarts used to be, and how now it was totally and utterly ruined.

When I arrived at the gargoyle statue to the Headmaster's Office, I realised I hadn't quite thought my glorious plan through.

"Sherbert Lemons?" I asked hopefully. The gargoyle sniggered. Evidently some things stubbornly didn't change.

I was hit with an enormous crash of déjà vu as I turned to begin pacing in an attempt to think of the sweets Snape might like and found myself face to face with Professor McGonagall, her horn-rimmed glasses and disapproving expression scarily eerie to the last time I had stood here, shouting sweet names at the gargoyle. I hastily suppressed any later recollections of that evening. Or earlier ones in fact. Kissing Draco Malfoy in a deserted corridor was not the greatest memory to think of now.

"Is there any particular reason you are not in your lesson, Miss Forester?" McGonagall asked sharply, and I felt my attitude quailing slightly. I'd forgotten how fierce her eyes could look.

"I walked out of Defence Against the Dark Arts and I've come to see Professor Snape." I said forcing myself to remain calm, "I'd like take the opportunity to complain about the standards of teaching going on here."

Far from my expectations to dismiss my words and send me back off to Defence Against the Dark Arts (which, I now agreed with Terry's comment at the start of term feast, it was really just Dark Arts now) Professor McGonagall simply looked at me, and for a moment I thought I imagined her expression softening slightly.

"Miss Forester, follow me." She finally said, began stalking away, leaving me gaping aimlessly until I spurred my legs into motion and followed her.

I trailed behind her curiously, wondering if I was somehow in trouble, which was usually, if not always the reason teachers asked me to follow them. She led me to what only could be her office as I took in the fireplace and a tartan tin of what looked like biscuits as she waved me in through the open door, and I wondered what I had done that was so bad that we needed to go to her study before she could tell me off.

Instead, she waved me into an empty chair, perched her hands on the desk before me and said in an extremely serious tone,

"Playing up to a couple of fools like Amycus and Alecto Carrow is going to get you absolutely nowhere, Miss Forester."

"I-sorry?" I asked, momentarily taken aback at her unpredicted curtness.

"I have to listen to the pair of them in the staff room," McGonagall continued, her glasses still suspended on the end of her nose as she looked down at me sharply. "And I'm not hearing good things. I know, that for you of all people, to keep your head down in this kind of-"

"What do you mean, 'me of all people'?" I interjected demandingly,

"People who always have to get another word in," McGonagall snapped tartly, and I realised I had dug my own grave for that particular comment. "You have to keep your head down this term-"

"You're saying that I should happily cast the Cruciatus Curse on my friends?" I interrupted, this talk doing little for my mood. I left out the fact that Crabbe and I were certainly not friends. Although if I had made friends with him in the first year maybe all of this may have been avoided. Although I doubted any friendship could ever have progressed if he had always had the capacity for firing an Unforgiveable Curse at me and laughing whilst he did so. Besides if we were in the place where we could wish things would change I would certainly be up for giving Malfoy a backbone.

"Of course I'm not," McGonagall barked, although she seemed to soften a bit as she looked down at me, "I'm just saying it is not prudent to storm out of a classroom when the teacher is a known Death Eater."

"I know." I sighed, looking down at my fingers, "I'd just already gotten detention. I didn't think it could get much worse."

"Miss Forester, it is essential that you understand that where Alecto and Amycus Carrow, and for all I know Professor Snape, are concerned, it can _always_ get worse than a detention."

I looked up at her, and was met with the same stern look that I had known for seven years. Somehow, now, that was comforting. I felt myself nodding, the rampant thoughts in my head cooling slightly at her advice. As much as I hated to admit it, raging and yelling was hardly going to help anything. People kept telling me to tread carefully; perhaps it was time to actually listen.

I think McGonagall had seen the resignation in my eyes, for she straightened up and headed in the direction of the door; yanking it open and holding it out for me. I clambered out of the chair wordlessly and was halfway out the door when she spoke again,

"I think, perhaps, it's wise if you don't return to your classroom today." She hinted lightly, and I fought a wry grin at the mental image of me meekly slipping back into the class. I found myself idly wondering if anyone else had cast the Cruiciatus Curse on their partner. I decided I really didn't want to think about it.

"And Miss Forester?"

I looked back again and saw what looked like a glint of amusement in her eyes,

"Do pass the message onto Mr Longbottom. I feel he has changed a little since his first year."

As she shut the door to the office behind me, I felt the grin wriggling ever more firmly onto my face.

I ambled back in the direction of the classroom, half a mind to wait for Antony to come out of the lesson from hell. Professor McGonagall's words were resounding through me, and I was wondering how on earth I was going to get through this year in once piece. I already had one detention for my irrepressible urge to talk back, and I was failing to see how I could keep quiet if Amycus continued to try and make us hex each other. I shuddered at the thought of being forced to jinx Antony, watching him screaming in pain.

No. I though savagely. I would rather a million detentions.

I arrived outside the classroom just as the lesson was finishing. People were pouring out of the doors, pale faced and looking like they had been through misery. Well, I certainly agreed it hadn't been the most enjoyable hour. At least I had escaped.

The hatred that rose up in me at the sight of Crabbe and Goyle leaving the classroom, cruel smiles on their faces, was almost unrecognisable in its ferocity as it flooded through me. The desire to jinx them, or at least punch them in their stupid, grinning faces was surprisingly overwhelming.

My foot had moved forward half an inch towards them, and I couldn't have said why Malfoy emerging out the class after them made me falter with any intentions of fulfilling my violent desires. As he was making to go, he caught my eye, and I definitely saw the hesitation that took over his body.

I looked at him, and for a moment, it was almost like my tongue wanted to form words; just random, illogical words simply for the sole purpose of just talking to him. And for a second it was like my ears were craving to hear his voice; to hear him reply.

But then he turned away.

A wave of disappointment hit me that I had not been expecting as I looked after him, a wild urge to follow him and set a few things straight that was completely clashing with any of the feelings I had had over the summer.

I suppose it was fortunate when Neville appeared in front of me, a look in his eyes that I felt could appear in mine when I was thinking about doing something a teacher, or Filch, would unquestionably disapprove of.

"Hello, Neville," I said curiously, casting a look down at the corridor filled with departing students. There was Malfoy, walking away quickly away and without looking back. "What are yo-"

"Listen, Meg," He leaned towards me, as if he had a secret, and despite myself, I let the intrigue interrupt any desire to chase after Malfoy. "You still have your DA coin, right?"

"Urm. No." I said slowly, wondering where this could be going. A small suspicion was beginning to build up in the back of my mind, "Terry and Antony have theirs, though."

"Right. Well, just keep it handy. If it does that warming up thing come to the Room of Requirement. You still know the way, right?"

"Why?" I finally asked bluntly,

Neville let a small grin cross his features, the gash on his face from Alecto's wand looking livid in the candlelit corridor.

"I think it's time that Dumbledore's Army started recruiting again."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you again for all the great reviews! You're all so lurverly xD**

**And thanks for being so patient between uploads! Nobody has threatened to tie me to my chair until I upload...which I take as a good sign :P**

**Wherein I turn into Moaning Myrtle and fall out with a porcupine.**

"Tonight?" Antony asked in Transfiguration on Thursday morning. His attention was so focused on what I had just said that the porcupine he was supposed to be transforming into a pillow clambered off his desk and flumped onto the floor; coughing up a few feathers as it lumbered towards the exit. I didn't bother telling him that it was escaping as I met his eyes, seeing the eagerness that was there.

"Yep." I replied, tapping the desk with my wand rather than disfiguring my porcupine into a pillow hybrid by attempting to transform it, "8 o'clock, I think. After dinner anyway."

"But-"

I shushed him as Pansy walked past out desks, and flicked him a warning glance.

I had just finished telling him what Terry had told me at breakfast. That the coin that he was now carrying everywhere in his pocket had begun to warm up; the times for the meeting set for this evening. I had cheered up immeasurably at the prospect of it; the fact that finally, we were doing something in an active and secret way of protest against the presence of Death Eaters in our castle. That at least, I'm sure, was going to get me through Defence Against the Dark Arts later. My detention had been set for Friday, and besides my joking, I was expecting far worse than pickling rat brains. It hung like a storm over my head; one that I desperately wished I could avoid.

I was a little torn from my thoughts when the dark-haired figure in front of us turned around to pick up his escaping porcupine; distastefully avoiding its sharp quills.

Although Mulciber hadn't acknowledged me, since the beginning of term and at this moment in time (and I could hardly see how he would, given that I had ignored him all summer) I leapt out my chair, not up for an awkward conversation with a boy I had once dated, and never actually liked in a way you would assume two people dating should.

"Be right back," I muttered, "Your pillow-pine, or porcu-low has got out into the corridor."

"Oh." Antony said as I hurried off, as if he had just noticed.

The porcupine was happily waddling past a suit of armour when I caught up with it, and I examined it chewing on the toe of the rather outraged suit before deciding it was safer to levitate it back to the classroom rather than pick it up.

It wasn't too happy about that.

I was so surprised at its capacity for loud squealing that I let it fall at the door to the classroom, and nudged it gently with my toe in an attempt to guide it back to Antony. It looked up at me crossly.

"Get angry with McGonagall, not me," I told it, "She sets the lessons. And today, you have to let people make you into a pillow."

I swooped down with a sigh, and began to poke it in the hope it would be encouraged to move.

I straightened up when it became apparent that it was more stubborn than me, and promptly crashed straight into a figure who was trying to get past.

"OW!" I exclaimed, my leg brushing the porcupine's quills as I stumbled forwards. A pair of hands caught me, as the porcupine scuttled back out the door; the rustling of its spines brushing together sounding almost like laughter.

By the time I had decided porcupines were no longer that high on the list of my favourite animals, I realised I had no idea whose hands were still firmly clasped on my arms.

"What?" I snapped, looking into the pale eyes I had never quite seen on anyone else,

"What do you mean 'what'?" Malfoy shot back, his forehead crumpling in a frown, "You fell over."

"I tripped over a porcupine, actually." I corrected him, gesturing at the floor so we were clear.

"Like you trip over cobblestones, I suppose?" He said in a lower voice, and I looked up at him in astonishment.

I realised his hands were still closed; warm and strong over my arms, and I wriggled out of his grasp, slightly embarrassed at not noticing, or disliking, that sooner.

"Didn't you hear me in Potions?" I snapped to hide my confusion, "I said-"

"I got it, thanks." Draco replied and I noted the coldness now in his tone, "Excuse me for stopping you falling over your own feet."

"It was a por-"

"A porcupine. I got that too."

"Stop it!" I snarled, "Stop finishing my sentences!"

He shrugged, and I was almost sure I had seen the flitter of a smile on his face; the one from the old days he had worn whenever he had succeeded in annoying me and I had snapped, a retort too slow in coming. It had happened too often for my taste.

Unexplainable and totally random, a multitude of sadness slammed into me as I stood there looking at him, the wall I had constructed against reminiscing now crumbling and showing me just how weak it had been in the first place. I hadn't realised just how much I missed the relationship that had existed between Malfoy and I; in light of how angry I had been about everything that had happened since; which had eclipsed memories that were less of a landmark. But here, I suddenly realised that part of that gaping pain in my chest I had felt over summer had not been the simple desolate sorrow over Malfoy's actions and Dumbledore's death. It was that I had lost a part of my life I had loved; the part where I could laugh and grow angry and let satisfaction swoop down on me if I had been particularly witty.

And looking at him now; that small smile that had nearly grazed his lips still lingering in his eyes, I realised just how significant that hole in my chest had been.

I became conscious that I had been staring at him a pretty long time.

"Porcupines." I said, lunging for the nearest, non-Malfoy related word my mind could seize. Then I decided humans would be much better if they didn't have mouths. Me, especially.

Malfoy looked a little confused, and I was saved by Professor McGongagall, who had the amazing capacity to spot people who were not completing their assigned work within a few seconds.

"I take it you two have perfect examples of the pillows I demanded at the beginning of the lesson if you have time to stand around talking." She said briskly, any traces of the advice she had given me yesterday completely gone.

"I was giving mine a break." I said quietly, not feeling quite up to my usual level of rejoinders, "It was starting to feel all mushy."

The rest of the lesson passed in such a blur I honestly had no idea how I managed to get from my chair to the outside corridor; Antony by my side; chatting away and receiving half-hearted, automatic replies from myself.

When Terry found us among the students coming down the stairs to the Entrance Hall; heading out towards the courtyards, I muttered something unintelligible about needing the bathroom, and found myself hurrying along to the first floor toilets; the need to be alone suddenly almost crippling.

I slammed the stall room door shut behind me when I rushed in; sliding the lock across and collapsing back onto the closed toilet seat; my bag thudding down onto the floor beside me.

I ran a hand through my hair angrily as I tried to sort the mash of my thoughts out; all of them tangled in a knotted confusion. I didn't entirely understand why the rage of conflicted emotions thundering around me had been sparked by that little smile of his. I didn't entirely understand a lot of things. Not just insignificant things, like riddles and homework; but the important things that I wanted so desperately to understand. I wanted to know why I couldn't quite tear myself away from Malfoy completely; how always there was that part of me that was catching his eye, and feeling disappointed when he didn't talk to me. I hated him, right? Right. He ruined Hogwarts. He was the reason everything had gone so horribly and irreversibly wrong.

And he was the reason I had currently locked myself in a toilet.

I tried to force out a laugh, and then realised I was crying. Well, _that_ wasn't good. Why was I doing that? It was almost as if registering the stinging in my eyes ignited every teardrop that lived inside me, because before I knew it, I was sobbing my heart out; my thoughts torn between hateful, anguished feelings I had been collecting, and the rest at how utterly ridiculous, and kind of funny this was.

"Are you crying?"

A delighted voice cut across my stifled sobs, and I jerked my head upwards in shock and saw Moaning Myrtle looking at me through the cubicle door; looking positively thrilled at the sight of someone being miserable. I straightened up a little; my spectacle of feeling sorry for myself cut a little short in its prime of life.

"Should have figured you would be in here," I sighed, rubbing my eyes, "And no. I was smelling onions."

"I'm sure _I _had it worse." Myrtle said conversationally, "I can help if you like."

"Oh, I forgot," I said with a wobbly laugh, wiping my nose on my sleeve. Attractive, I know, "You like helping the crying students, right? You and Malfoy made great friends last year."

"I understood him better than anyone." She said proudly, drawing herself up, "I knew exactly what he was going through. With Olive Hornby, you see-"

A loud snort from me deflated her happiness slightly.

"You can laugh all you want," Myrtle scowled petulantly, "But it's not going to help you in any way."

"Actually, I feel loads better now." I said pretty convincingly, hopping to my feet as she scowled at me.

"Tell him to come and see me in my toilet sometime." Myrtle sighed as I unlocked the door. "He and Harry never visit anymore."

"I'll let him know." I replied, trying desperately to keep a straight face, "Maybe you could all have a toilet reunion party or something."

I didn't hear Myrtle's reply, as it was drowned out by her diving into the pipes winding up towards the ceiling; and before long she emitted a long and rather ear-splitting wail.

"I'll be going now!" I yelled over the din, and had nearly made it to the door when a question seized my mind out of nowhere.

"Myrtle?"

"What?" She snapped loudly, poking her head back out the plumbing.

"Did Malfoy ever really tell you what he was doing?"

I didn't know exactly what had prompted the question, but it was strange. It wasn't as if I was going to get angry with her if she had known what he was up to and hadn't said anything; it was a different angle I was thinking of. And I was almost ashamed to admit it to myself.

It was the fact that I wanted to remain being the only person he had let into his problems; even if he hadn't exactly told me. It was stupid and ridiculous, but it suddenly felt like it mattered.

"Well, not really." She said with a long and sorrowful sigh, "He was very vague, you see. He just kept talking about how someone was going to kill him if he failed. I offered to let him share my toilet, but it didn't cheer him up."

I was going to say something along the lines of 'fancy that', but I was distracted slightly. I ended up leaving the bathrooms without another word, my mind flitting back to a conversation Malfoy and I had had last term. How Voldemort would kill him and his family for his failing. The sympathy I had felt then lit up once more in my heart; sure, it was a lot less stronger than last time; darkened by the anger at what he had done, and his cowardice. But it was still there.

I was glad of the distraction of Defence Against the Dark Arts to take my mind of these pensive, and rather depressing thoughts. Not that the lesson was anything to get cheery about. Amycus seemed to have taken Neville and my reluctance to curse the stuffing from our partners as a personal attack; and I remained on full guard for the whole lesson after he decided to begin the class by giving me a quick test of my agility by firing a Stinging Hex at me. I didn't know quite how I had managed to become the punching bag of the two Carrows. Maybe it was something to do with that talking back quality everyone kept telling me about. I was also fairly sure that there was a light of savage happiness in my eyes whenever Amycus looked my way; one that was probably not far off the look Umbridge received from several students two years ago. The thought of the Room of Requirement; left abandoned by the DA for so long, was all that was keeping me from being crushed by the horrible lessons that used to be so wonderful. Bar Umbridge's classes, obviously.

The day dragged by so slowly it was pretty agonising. My mind was stuck on eight o'clock this evening; so that little else could occupy it; owing to a disastrous Potions lesson (that really came as no real change) and me putting custard on my vegetables at dinner, and not even noticing until Terry saved me from putting the fork in my mouth.

Finally, at last, we walked up to the seventh floor; casting shifty looks around at small noises. We weren't totally sure if we were going to be told off for wondering around up here when we had an hour until it was definitely forbidden.

It came as a relief when we spotted Neville walking in the direction of the Room of Requirement, and sped along to catch up with him.

"You're the first people I've seen," He told us when we were within earshot, "I was going to meet everyone there. They don't know what to wish for, you see."

"What a problem it must be." I sighed, fighting a grin. The look Terry gave me plainly told me to shut up.

It dawned on me as we headed down the corridor that the last time I had been here was when Malfoy had led the Death Eaters out of the Room; leading them to the Astronomy Tower where...well, things hadn't worked out so great. And the last time I had actually entered the Room, it had been a place where furniture and gaudy, unwanted objects went to die; clutter piled high in an enormous labyrinth; where I had heard the sound of a person sobbing.

I shoved the thought aside as Neville pushed open the door that had appeared in the stonework; and I saw, to my relief, that the view was very, very different to the last time I had seen it.

It was pretty similar to the old DA days; a large, pale room free of clutter; the stuffed dummies ready for target practice; the cushions piled high in one corner for a soft landing whilst practicing curses. And strung high up among the rafters were three different types of banners; each a thick, rich material that gave the impression we were standing in a vast tent. Blue, red and yellow clashed and melted warmly together; Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff uniting in their rebellion against the school.

"This is great!" Antony said eagerly, walking over to a rickety bookcase stuffed with hand guides on defence against dark powers.

"Did you manage to get everyone in on this?" I asked Neville, dragging my eyes away from the banners. Neville made a face at my words.

"Everyone that matters. That idiot Zacharias Smith didn't want to come. Said it would be too risky-"

He was interrupted by a loud series of excited whooping and laughing as a few more people clambered in through the door; Seamus Finnigan leading them. I recognised Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Michael Corner, Padma and Parvati Patil, and Ernie Macmillan; all looking around eagerly, gold coins clutched tightly in their fists.

"This was a wonderful idea, Neville." Luna said happily, going over to stand next to him and gazing around dreamily. It seemed that Neville was now working hard not to look too pleased with himself.

"Right, let's get started," He said loudly, and everyone grabbed the nearest cushion and shifted into a comfortable position on the floor. It felt completely surreal to be here, in this situation again; although the crowd was sadly a lot sparser this time around.

"I know I'm not Harry," Neville began, frowning slightly as if he were disappointed with himself for that very fact, "And I know I don't have nearly as much experience with this kind of thing that he does-"

"We think you're fairly kick-ass, Neville." Ginny put in, and a few people grinned in agreement.

"Especially that Death Eater I heard you back-chatted on the train," Seamus added with a snigger, "That was pure class, Neville."

"Yeah, well, anyway," Neville was blushing slightly now, "Obviously we're here to do something about the pathetic excuses for teachers the Ministry has lumbered us with."

"Hear, hear." I muttered in agreement, glancing down at the bruise on my knee I had sustained from ducking to the floor in order to avoid the Unforgiveable Curse Amycus had sent my way during our first lesson.

"And I think the best way to do that is let them know they're not really...welcome." I looked up at the sly smile that was now on Neville's normally innocent face.

"And how will we do that?" Terry asked shrewdly, seeming to have picked up on the expression too.

"I was thinking if the majority of the student body are unhappy with how things are going, we're going to become hard to ignore."

"Won't that be dangerous?" Parvati asked quietly.

"Probably a lot more dangerous than sitting in Defence Against the Dark Arts and letting the teacher hex the students." I put in, "But as I am that student, I don't reckon I have much to lose."

Nobody laughed, and I guessed it wasn't really the best thing to joke about.

"So," Terry said after a loud cough, "We're going to be stirring up trouble?"

"That's what I figured," Neville began, before Luna interrupted him; staring up at the banners in apparent fascination,

"Are we going to be Dumbledore's army still?"

"Of course we are." Ginny put in and Neville continued to look exasperated at the continued interruption, "We're going to learn the spells that our teachers should have been teaching us this year, right Neville?"

"Urm, I guess so." Neville suddenly seemed uncertain, "I mean, I don't really know that much about-"

"Well that's settled then," Ginny finalized decisively, and I found myself sniggering at Neville's now somewhat gormless expression, "We can muck up the castle and terrorize the staff, _and _learn stuff."

"How will we find time to study?" I added in mock wonder, and Antony began to choke.

"So what are we planning on doing on the terrorizing front?" Seamus asked eagerly; perhaps a little _too_ eagerly, "We're talking explosions, right?"

"I've still got a collection of fireworks from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" Michael Corner added, to a collection of eager nods.

"Surely that's a little excessive?" Antony said, looking a little anxious, "I mean, it's great that we're going to give them chaos, but blowing up the school?"

"I think we'll start with a more tame way of doing things," Neville cut in hastily, "Like letting more students know about this."

"Please let us vandalise something," I said. I don't think Neville quite knew whether I was serious or not.

"Well, today I think we should practice a spell or something. And then when you're in your common room and you see a person you think could come here too, let them know about it. Just don't go shouting your head off about it. We don't want a repeat of the Inquisitorial Squad or something."

I whole-heartily agreed, against my will remembering the time when I had teased Malfoy about being in it in one of our numerous walks along the corridors together. Although I'd called it the Inkytorial Squid back then. I still stood by that as a much better name.

We ended up practicing the Shield Charm; one which I decided would suit me best with more Muggle Studies and Dark Arts classes looming over me. Terry burst my bubble slightly when he informed me that an Unforgiveable Curse couldn't be blocked, but at least I was free from the wrath of a Jelly-Legs Jinx now, if Amycus decided to get a sense of humour. It somehow seemed unlikely.

By the end of the hour, I had come close to casting such a strong Shield Charm that Antony, who I had actually been aiming at, was knocked back several metres and into a pile of well-placed cushions; his hex not even grazing me.

"Same time next week, eh, Neville?" Seamus called cheerfully as I yanked Antony to his feet; his eyes looking a little crossed.

"Remember we're being stealthy!" Neville called back, "We can't let the Carrows get wind about this!"

"I guess it's a good thing we're not all spilling our hearts out to people like Malfoy then," Terry grinned as we bade Neville goodnight and headed out the doors. I forced a very bad attempt at a laugh, and made a good show of doubling back whilst pretending to tie my shoelace so nobody could see the guilty look covering my face.

It was probably never going to be a good time to tell Terry or Antony the truth about Malfoy and I's relationship. And even if the matter ever did present itself, I wouldn't have a clue what to say.

It was solidly remaining the one thing I was dead certain I was never going to understand; no matter how many bathroom stalls I cried in, or how many ghosts I talked to. Perhaps I should talk to Malfoy about it.

But opening my heart to him was not a wonderful notion; in fact, I would rather go to tomorrow night's detention than lay all my feelings and thoughts on the table like that.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise when I rapidly changed my mind to that dramatic statement the next day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and favourites you guys :') You are all so epic!**

**This chapter had to get a little serious...so I'm promising at least ten really, really lame jokes for the next one :P**

**The sword and mice reference is after the Rapier and Rodent names, in case that makes no sense at all!**

**In which swords battle mice and I begin to see a pattern in late-night wonderings.**

There was a loud thump as I collapsed onto one of the squashy blue armchairs in the Ravenclaw common room that afternoon.

After a day of Muggle Studies, where I had had to endure Alecto's sadistically cruel comments with no reaction from myself, and a gruelling Charms lesson that was unfortunately nothing to do with the Shield Charm that I had spent last night mastering, I was rather worse for wear; my brain sluggish with tiredness, and my legs aching from walking all over the castle.

Tiredness, simply on its own would have been bearable. But I was also tearing my nerves to pieces by worrying over tonight's detention. I was gearing myself up to be jinxed the second I walked in there, and I was wondering if it would be better all around if I simply didn't go. What more could they do?

According to Professor McGonagall, a hell of a lot more.

The soft crackling of a radio coming into life caught my attention, and I turned around to see Terry, Padma, Micahel Corner and Luna all crowded round a battered old radio that was usually at its height of use at Christmas; playing festive songs before everyone got so sick of it that it was hidden under a sofa for the rest of the year.

"What are we listening to?" I yawned, not quite noticing them all jump and look around guiltily,

"Um." Michael Corner said, "It's called _Potterwatch_."

"It's basically groups of people who are resisting You Know Who, telling us things the WWN and the _Daily Prophet_ never do" Padma elaborated, as I staggered to my feet and slowly trudged over, "They're also following Harry's movements."

"But he's on the run." I frowned.

"Perhaps. But they haven't caught him, or even seen him yet. So he's doing rather well if he is."

"Daddy thinks he's looking for a Crumple-Horned Snorckack to train." Luna put in dreamily, "They can breathe fire, you know."

"Turn it up," Terry said eagerly, everyone acting as if Luna hadn't spoken. Padma twiddled one of the knobs, and slowly, the radio reared to life.

"-If you weren't so much of a dung-head-"

"How come you get to be 'Rapier'?" Retorted an indignant voice that I recognised instantly, "You look more like a 'Rodent' to me!"

"Well that's really clever! Faultless logic-"

"-perhaps I should remind you that listeners have more concerns over which codename they have!" Cut in another voice impatiently, that I knew better from Quidditch matches; complimenting Angelina Johnson and berating Roger Davies.

"That's Lee Jordan!" Terry said excitedly before I could open my mouth.

"They all have codenames," Michael explained, "Just in case someone unfriendly is listening,"

"Well, we'll settle for those names, boys. Tough if you don't like them." The small argument had been resolved, and the two voices that sounded exactly the same; and belonged to owners, who were equally alike, became more serious.

"Fine." Said the person I assumed was Fred, or George, Weasley, "Well, as our listeners probably don't know yet; as it's going to take the _Daily Prophet_ about a week to write about as they try and make Harry look like a deranged psychopath, Harry and his two friends were seen in the Ministry of Magic today-"

"WHAT?" I exclaimed and was immediately shushed by four pairs of fingers on lips,

"-And made a right bloody mess of the place too, in the words of my little brother." Cut in the other twin, "Pamphlets and glass exploding left, right and centre. Ten out of ten for rubbing it in their faces."

"Any theories as for why they went there, Rodent?"

"Rodent," Repeated Fred or George mournfully, "I ask you. Well, River, as we were saying; Harry isn't really the type of guy to break into a high security area just to show he can. He definitely has an extremely valid reason for doing so; and the fact that he got away can lend us all great relief. Take it from me listeners; I don't think the Chief Death Eater is going to be best pleased about this."

"So you reckon that we can count ourselves to be one step closer to sorting out this country now that Harry went to the Ministry of Magic?"

"I reckon so indeed. We don't know why he went there; but for whatever reason, I expect he was successful, which can do nothing but make us Potter supporters very happy."

"Well, that's about all we have time for, I'm afraid," Lee said, "But there you have it; Harry is alive and very much kicking. Show your support by tuning into _Potterwatch. _The next password is 'Albus', keep faith and keep safe. Goodnight."

The radio's light went out and the hum of a disused station filled the air; leaving an enraptured silence with it.

"Well," Said Terry, with a sigh, "That's good to hear."

"I wish I knew what they were up to!" Antony said; making us all jump with his before unnoticed presence, "I bet they're looking for some kind of weapon!"

"Or they've found it already!" I chimed in, my mind leaping into unrealistic overdrive as I imagined everything being set straight here, somehow.

"Meg," Terry said slowly, "Aren't you supposed to be going to your detention?"

I had to hand it to him for killing all the happy thoughts my mind had just accumulated.

"I can't say I want to." I said, forcing a weak laugh. The looks of sympathy I received did absolutely nothing to make me feel better.

"You don't have to go," Antony suggested, "Then if they corner you later about it there are plenty of staff and students around."

"I'm sorry, but I think you should go, Meg." Terry interrupted, "If you don't, they're going to single you out, and you're going to be in serious danger."

"Perfect!" I said in a mock cheery voice, "I do _love_ being singled out."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Antony asked, his forehead crumpling. I saw just how worried he was for me, and a surge of liking for my friend shot through me.

"No way." I snorted, "I don't want you guys anywhere near them. Although...if I'm not back by tomorrow I would definitely recommend mentioning my absence to someone."

"Just-"

"Don't talk back to them." I finished, getting to my feet and reaching over the chair for my bag, "Got it."

"No," Terry sighed, "Be _careful_."

"It's my middle name, Terry." I grinned, although I think he saw through to my thinly veiled fear, "See you later."

"Always going somewhere," The eagle knocker remarked when I shoved past it, evidently picking up on my less than cheery mood, "Do you ever spend more than five minutes in the common room?"

"Nope," I replied, "I just love testing my riddle knowledge."

"_Knowledge_ is a strong word."

"See you later," I replied tiredly, letting it have that one, "You be ready with one of your many, amazing riddles."

Although I had admittedly come out worse in that particular exchange, I felt a little better from the lack of compassion or sympathy it had given me, which was weird. I suppose it was nice to know that I could count on some things to remain the same.

The corridors were empty of people; nobody wanted to hang around for as long as they could get away with it anymore. The common rooms were the only safe places; where you were protected by passwords and riddles. Or in Hufflepuff's case, hitting barrel lids in a rhythm. At least that was what Ernie Macmillan had told me; I think he had been winding me up, though.

I was walking along the third floor corridor when I ran into Snape.

I actually felt like my heart had gone into cardiac arrest. I hadn't seen him coming at all; owing to those horrible, dark robes of his; and it seemed like he had detached himself from the walls. If I didn't know better, I would have said that he probably could do that.

I froze where I was; overcome with a boiling hatred of the man before me now. Amongst the surge of dislike, a prickle of fear ran along my spine. I almost felt like he was going to curse me at any moment.

"Do you know what time it is, Miss Forester?" Snape said in his silky voice, looking down at me with expressionlessly dark eyes.

"I'm hoping it's just before eight o'clock, sir." I replied shortly.

"So you'll be aware you have to return to your common room _now_?"

"I'd love to. But I have a detention with Professor Carrow." It was worth admitting this just to get one up on him. I think he caught the challenge in my tone, for his eyebrows lowered.

"Then you should head there immediately."

"Thanks for the tip." I realised this was pretty rude, so I forced a sweet, guileless smile onto my face. I doubt he bought it.

Perhaps, I thought as I hurried away, he had let me have that one as I currently had a detention with a Death Eater. There was a sick feeling gathering in my stomach; slick with a foreboding nervousness I couldn't shake off.

I actually made myself late in the end, hovering outside the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom; not quite able to muster the strength to walk over the threshold.

I was finally reaching my hand out for the door, having promised myself I would actually open it this time, when it was wrenched open from my grasp; causing me to leap backwards to avoid being hit.

I looked apprehensively into Alecto Carrow's face; determined not to drop my gaze from hers.

"There you are, girlie!" She leered, seizing my arm and forcing me into the classroom with surprising strength for a person much smaller than me.

"So am I writing lines?" I said, forcing my voice to remain normal, "Something like 'I must curse my classmates'?"

"Oh no no no," Alecto tittered, her hold on me growing painful, "Amycus told me about your impertinence, so I'm going to show you just how it feels to be cursed; then you won't feel so bad about doing it to others!"

I had wriggled from her grasp at these words; my legs tensed and ready to bolt. But I was a bit too slow. Alecto drew her wand far too fast for me, the look in her eyes not quite sane,

"_CRUCIO!"_ She shrieked.

I wish I could say I had managed to dive out the way again; but she was too quick, and far too close.

It was pain as I had never experienced it as I sank to the floor; hardly aware of my knees hitting hard floor. It felt as if my veins were on fire; or my very blood; I tried screaming, but it didn't help. I completely forgot where I was; everything that was going on was lost as pain wracked my body. All I could think of was how much everything hurt; and how crippling it was.

When it wore off it seemed as if my limbs had turned to jelly. I was left in a position I hadn't remembered assuming; curled up in a ball on the floor; my sweaty palms gripping the wooden floorboards. I couldn't breathe, and all I cared about right now was that I never had to feel that again.

Alecto was laughing her horrible, wheezy giggle; and I felt sickness rising in my stomach; the urge to run away completely incompatible with my legs which now felt incredibly frail.

"You think I don't recognise you?" Alecto was crowing; her approaching footsteps vibrating the floor my hands were still clamped to, "I know you from that night! You dodged the curse then, girlie! So again and again until you wish you'd felt it then!"

She drew her breath, and I flinched; willing myself to move out the way, but not quite able to,

"What on earth is going on here?" The voice cut shrill and furious over Alecto, and my body felt a rush of relief as she lowered her wand, turning to meet someone out of my sight. I blearily looked up to see Professor McGonagall, who was striding into the classroom; her face more enraged and dangerous than I had ever seen it.

"Detention, wos it look like?" Alecto was giggling, and I jumped when she emitted a loud shriek. Turning my head, I was met with a loud crash as she sprawled headlong into a bookcase; the wood of its structure creaking threateningly.

"Get out of here, Miss Forester!" McGonagall cried sharply, and I allowed myself brief time to mentally comment at how hypocritical she had been when telling me to keep my head, now she was standing here; wand brandished at Alecto's stirring figure, "We'll say no more about it!"

I wordlessly staggered to my feet; the heavy thanks that was rushing through me suddenly impossible to voice.

I hadn't realised how stiflingly hot that classroom had been until I was met with the cool air of the corridor; soothing my face. I put a hand to my eyes; my fingertips coming away with tears I hadn't realised I had been shedding. I seemed to be doing that too often at the moment.

The shouts still coming from the classroom behind me spurred me down the corridor; seeking the quietness I was suddenly yearning for.

My body was aching; but a numbness had set itself on me, and I suppose the majority of it was from shock. Half of me was stuck back there; that pain burning me; nowhere I could go to get away from it.

I shuddered and forced myself to walk as far and as hard as I could; pushing my already protesting legs as far away from that classroom as I could manage. I ignored the shoots of dulled pain my limbs shouted at me; my legs climbing up stairs and along random corridors; determined to focus on the floor beneath me; or a pattern on wallpaper. Anything but the pain I was feeling.

I think I was up on the sixth floor when I paused outside a heavy oak door I recognised as Professor Slughorn's office; my lungs heaving with the exertion of my fast walking; unable to really walk much further.

I sagged against the wall; my hands on my knees, staring blankly down at my shoes. My head was spinning and throbbing. In fact, everywhere was throbbing; my limbs tired and prickling like it was all waiting to go off again. I wanted to slide down the wall and stay there forever.

As my breathing ebbed in its loud, rasping quality, I became aware of the other sounds filling the night air.

Soft music filled my ears; and I was surprised as it flooded through me; soothing me slightly.

Pressing my ear against the door, I could hear the hum of an old gramophone, the tender sound of a lone violin warbling through the oak door. I smiled weakly to myself and tiptoed away over thick rugs and cold flagstones.

The soft patter of raindrops starting to tap at the window provided a gentle harmony as I walked down the dark corridors, the vinyl music from Slughorn's office crackling; the silky sound of a wavering violin travelling down the deserted corridor.

Despite the tiredness tugging on my eyelids, I hovered at one of the windows; extending from the ceiling to the floor. I ran my fingers over the criss-crossing patterns and sighed heavily; trying to let the late-night stillness and emptiness wash away everything that had occupied my mind today. I forced my attention to focus on the soft rug below my feet; the cool feel of the glass under my fingertips and the trembling, faltering music echoing down the hallway.

The song drifted to an end; leaving me with just the sound of the raindrops on the pane, and then I realised that the corridor wasn't as empty as I had thought.

I could hear footsteps; slow and unhurried, as if the owner of the feet didn't have anywhere particular to be. I felt a shoot of panic, but before I could shrink back into the shadows, away from the moonlit window, the last person in the world that I was expecting rounded the corner.

Malfoy looked like he hadn't exactly been expecting me either. He didn't look particularly happy about this surprise as he took in the sight of me, halting where he stood.

"Ever start to see a pattern in this?" I asked, forcing what was sure to have been a wretchedly depressed expression and instead coercing a smile onto my face as I let my hand drop from the window to the pockets of my robes.

"You're not in pyjamas this time." He replied, it was as if he was making a joke, but his tone was not at all light with it.

"That's because I've just been enjoying the company of Alecto Carrow."

Malfoy froze slightly at that, sweeping me quickly with his eyes as if expecting to find one of my limbs missing or something.

"I suppose you're blaming me for that?" He finally asked quietly.

"If it makes you feel at all guilty then yes." I retorted, my fingers digging into my pockets; tearing at the loose threads. I saw Malfoy watching me from the corner of my eye, but I kept my gaze fixed somewhere below his eyes; somehow unable to think of anything to say for once.

"Then I'm sorry." He said at last, "Really."

"Are you?" I said with a humourless, doubtful twist of my mouth; my fingers emerging from my pockets to tuck my hair behind my ears, "Ok then."

"Meg?"

"Hmm?"

"Your hands are shaking."

Before I could say anything, he took a slow, hesitant step towards me, as if unsure of my reaction; and took my hands in hit slender fingers.

My brain, that had been so stuck back on that third floor classroom; the sound of Alecto's laughter nauseating in my ears, was suddenly was thrown away from that and into the present; where I realised just how warm his hands were against my clammy, cold palms; or how much I liked the shade of his skin against my more tanned complexion that came from living by the sea. Even if it was in England.

"They're not shaking now." I said trying to muster a feeble laugh, and failing quite epically.

"Are you ok, Forester?"

I finally found my eyes flicking upwards to his; and I wondered how I hadn't before. The grey shade of them was like the sea on a rainy day; one I had seen constantly from my bedroom window. England, I told you.

"I'm just great." Even I didn't miss the sharpness amongst the lack of sincerity in my tone, and I wasn't really quite sure where it had originated from. Malfoy frowned at me, and it was that familiar facial expression, if anything, that brought my voice back slightly.

"I've been trying really hard to avoid you, you know." I sighed, leaving my hands still encased with his, no matter how unhealthy I was regarding it as, "I would have thought you could appreciate that."

"Oh right, sorry," Sarcasm was heavy in his tone, "I'll make sure I look round corners before I walk round them in future."

"That would be great." I snapped acidly. I tried to pull my hands away now, but his grip was stronger than I had first thought.

"Let go." I said furiously, and I felt a rush of conflicting emotions as his face broke into the smallest of smirks,

"I don't want to, Forester."

"Wow, that's really romantic, _Malfoy_. Seriously." I said, rolling my eyes,

"You seem in a bad mood."

"That's because I am."

"Are you angry at me?"

"I'm always angry at you." I sighed, realising just how true it was. "You're a total idiot."

"Well, that's two of us then," He said, his face falling into deadpan once more as I tried to work out whether he was joking or not, "How many house points did you lose for breaking half the ingredient cupboard yesterday?"

"Is this your twisted way of cheering me up?" I asked shrewdly, "It's not working."

"I think it is."

"Do you even care what you've put me through?" Wow, there was no stopping me today. My mood seemed to be as persistent as the raindrops hitting the pane.

Malfoy faltered slightly, his grip on my hands dropping. I used the disappointment seeping through me to fuel towards the anger I was summoning; most of it stemming from the confusion I felt as I looked into his eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asked, sounding equally perplexed.

"You played with people's lives. And more importantly than that, you played with _my_ life." I was looking down at his chest again, not trusting myself with his eyes. I didn't want to those comforting feelings that came with looking at them. When I spoke, my voice was eerily quiet; barely audible over the sound of the rain. "You should never have kissed me on that bridge."

Out of everything that I had said to him so far, I think the last few words was the thing that provoked the iciness in his next words,

"Evidently I made a mistake."

"Yeah, I reckon so."

"So that's it then? You never want to talk to me again?"

"Yes I do!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself. I then felt my face heat up, "I mean, no I don't...I don't know."

I didn't know why, but right now he was looking exceptionally pleased with himself.

"Well, you evidently don't understand," I finally said brusquely, stuffing my hands back into my pockets as if half afraid he would seize them again,

"Hmm." He mused, looking at me intently, "I guess not."

He clearly disagreed, but I wasn't in the mood to get into another full blown argument with him. And I certainly wasn't in the mood to run to the bathrooms to cry. Not that I was overly sure what had brought that on in such ferocity.

"I need to go to bed," I sighed weakly, "Got to sleep off a Cruciatus Curse."

His eyes shut off slightly at that; as if he saw I was trying to blame him again. I mentally kicked myself. Why did I have to go and say that? I wouldn't have wanted sympathy, and now I just felt plain awful.

Feeling that we had progressed, to be thrown back into absolutely nowhere, I felt my hand whipping out my pocket at its own accord and giving his a quick squeeze,

"I'll see you around." I said softly, giving a feeble smile.

I think he kind of took this as an apology, for I received a weak smile in return. Honestly, what a mucked up pair of people we were making out to be tonight.

I had made it closer to the door of Slughorn's office, where a happier melody had now sprung up from the gramophone when I remembered something,

"Oh Draco?" I couldn't help the grin that wriggled onto my face as I looked at him,

"Yes?"

"Moaning Myrtle said she would like to see you sometime."


	8. Chapter 8

**Howdy y'all. Thanks a million for all the reviews! They really do make this so worthwhile so thank you so so much! :D They're like ice cream and jelly and other good stuff.**

**I'm trying to get the chapter lengths up a bit seeing as my updating is so scattered, in a weak attempt at thanking you all for being so patient! :)**

**W****herein I cause an epic fall out and I let loose my artistic side.**

On Saturday late morning, a thing happened at Hogwarts that had never happened before.

I was walking down through the corridors with Terry and Antony; my hands pulled firmly inside the sleeves of my jumper (the corridors were getting progressively colder as the days grew darker and more sunless) when, with a suddenness that made me jump, a voice ran out through the school; as if someone had pressed a wand against their throat to amplify it to an unnatural level, like I had seen at the Quidditch World Cup. However, this time, the voice was icy and hard, and I didn't even need to think about who it belonged to, a scowl plastering my face as I thought of Snape doing a very good job at being as opposite of Luda Bagman as it was possible to be.

"Students will go immediately to the Great Hall," He said and, despite myself, I looked upwards at the sound of the disembodied voice, as if expecting Snape to be hanging off the ceiling. "Anyone who is noticed to not be in attendance will receive detention."

"To the Great Hall then," Terry snorted the minute the voice had cut off. I noticed, however, that he said it quietly; as if he were almost afraid a Carrow was eavesdropping from behind a tapestry, or suit of armour.

I had managed to steer away from the topic of last night's detention fairly well when my friends had asked me about it. It was probably more prudent for them to know so as to make them cautious, but they were a lot more sensible than me in the first place. And besides, I really was not in the mood for talking about it. My muscles felt stiff today; as if I had over-exercised, and I was walking vulnerably; my legs protesting at the extravagant layout of the castle.

We arrived at the Entrance Hall to meet a mass of students looking as curious and confused as we were. I wasn't sure how many students had received detention from one of the Carrows, but if news of their punishment methods had started flying around then the fear I was seeing in people's eyes was entirely justified.

Alecto Carrow was standing at the door to the Great Hall; her narrowed eyes causing all who were within eyeshot of her to fall silent and hurry past. I shrank back behind Terry as we were shepherded into the hall, deciding now was probably not the best time to remind her about my escape last night.

I scanned the top table as I entered the hall; immediately picking up on the glum faces of the teachers standing there. Only Amycus Carrow looked happy; and sometimes I wondered if it was simply because he was hosting ideas of killing everyone in here in his mind. The horrible thing was, I was pretty convinced I was right.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Terry, frowning at the collection of despondent staff.

"I have a hunch," Terry murmured, "And I think it has something to do with what we heard last night."

"What did we hear last night?" I persisted, utterly confused now, running through last night's events in my mind, "We were listening to _Po-_"

"Meg, be _quiet_."

I halted, confused, and instead turned to sit on the Ravenclaw table to the left of us; before realising that it wasn't there.

I knew immediately that it wasn't good. The last time the tables had vanished had been for OWLs. There was no way the teachers were going to make me relive that quite yet.

Before I could voice this, Snape spoke; his talent for barely raising his voice and still making himself heard presenting itself once more.

"Rows of seven, _now_."

I swallowed any clever comment as to how exactly he had worked out this was the best number to divide the students of Hogwarts by, and listlessly ambled behind Antony as he followed a group of frightened first years that were busy arranging themselves fretfully into a perfectly straight line.

As students mulled about behind me; trying to obey Snape's orders, I randomly placed myself on the end of the line Terry and Antony were occupying.

"Meg." Antony muttered a few moments later, "You're kind of the eighth wheel here."

"Huh?" I asked blankly, and realised he was indicating the line of seven they had already formed; me not included.

"Oh come on," I muttered a little scornfully, "Who's going to care?"

I looked up in time to meet the leering expression of Amycus, and decided that there was perhaps someone who _did_ care about finding an excuse to curse me.

"Fine." I pouted and flounced off towards the rear of the hall; in the aim of finding someone relatively nice to stand next to.

I saw Neville over the heads of a few fifth years and dashed towards him before I could be cut out another line. He saw me coming over and looked around hastily to check if anyone was watching us.

"Have you had your detention yet?" He asked in a low voice as I fell into place beside him. I noticed his voice held the same mutinous tone as when he had reinstated the DA.

"Some say 'detention', others say 'torture session'." I replied in the most light-hearted voice I could manage. It came out pretty sulkily.

"I had that too. I was thinking-"

He fell silent instantly as he glanced to my other side; a dark look spreading across his features as he stared stonily at the person standing there.

I had hedged my bets before I turned round to see who he was looking at, so I had a mental victory as I saw Malfoy standing there; looking ahead at the collection of staff; seemingly oblivious to our conversation. I had a feeling he wasn't though.

"Yeah, we should definitely assassinate Snape now." I finished, obviously a little too loudly, as a few people turned round to send us alarmed looks. Malfoy snorted.

"Stop eavesdropping." I told him, working hard to fight a grin.

"You make it extremely difficult." He muttered, just as Snape started talking again. With no opportunity to reply, I settled for shaking my head as I turned my attention to the man I could never consider headmaster. Although I couldn't quite hide the grin had won the battle with my face.

"You will all be aware that the Ministry of Magic has deemed several people at this point in time as being 'undesirable'." Snape said delicately, the whole hall rapt with attention. "People who are a threat to our society, and ergo, _dangerous_."

Dangerous. I felt myself fighting a snort of derision. I started to get a feeling where this was going; or at least who Snape was getting at.

"And at the top of this list," He said in his icy tones, confirming my suspicions, "Is Harry Potter."

It was like Snape had just said a swearword. Unbridled and flowing throughout the assembled crowd like waves; the students began to whisper; but it was certainly not out of fear of _dangerous_ Harry Potter. There was a hope in their eyes, and an excitement in their tones. Snape was probably aware of this, for he continued fairly quickly,

"Yesterday, Undesirable Number One infiltrated the Ministry of Magic," He said in the same quiet tone that was more frightening that anyone shouting.

Of course. What the twins had said on _Potterwatch _last night had been totally eradicated from my mind after the events that had followed it. This was what this assembling was all about.

Given that this was not new information to me, I forgot to register my surprise as everyone else let out small gasps and threatened to break out in manic whispering once more. Too quick for me to react, Snape's dark eyes swept over the faces watching him, and for a split second longer, lingered on mine. I realised how it must look; me being completely impassive to this news, and hastily let my mouth fall open in false shock. But it was too late; a nasty glint of knowing had lit in his eyes.

"If anyone has information of any kind on Mr Potter and his accomplices, then they should not hesitate on coming forwards. If anyone has any information on _people here_ acting against any rules or authorities instilled here or outside the castle, then they should come forwards with equal haste."

Snape was still looking at me, and I was fairly sure I hadn't imagined the extra emphasis he had placed on the words of students here. I assumed a guileless expression, as if I wouldn't dream of defying any rules. Out the corner of my lashes, I saw Malfoy following Snape's gaze, lighting on me.

"Teachers are reminded that any rule-breaking or insubordinate behaviour should be reported to either of the Professor Carrows _immediately_."

I wondered if Snape liked placing emphasis on words just to keep us here longer, and then shot Malfoy a quick look to check if he was still looking my way. He was, and as we made eye contact, his gaze whipped back to Snape; as if he thought I was a basilisk. I was mildly insulted.

"May I also remind you," Snape continued, and I shifted my feet restlessly, my eyes still fixed on Draco, "That in light of certain events, Educational Decree Number Twenty Four, claiming that all student teams, groups, organisations and societies are disbanded has once again been reinforced; until personal approval from either myself or the Professor Carrows."

There was no mistaking it. Snape's eyes flicked back to the direction of Neville and I, and I felt Neville stiffen slightly. I was completely lost at this, until I remembered that the DA fell under that exact category. Somehow, I doubted we were going to get Snape's approval for it.

I felt a small twinge of doubt in my chest as Snape's eyes darted away. How had he found out? I couldn't understand why anyone in the DA would have told him, unless some idiot like Zacharias Smith thought he could earn some approval, but I had thought that even he wouldn't have stooped that low. Either way, Snape was onto us, and unless we were dead clever (which I wasn't) we were going to get caught.

Snape dismissed us on that rather chilling note, and I kept my eyes averted to the floor; not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the concern in my eyes. Goodness knows I had given enough away already.

When I turned to escape from the hall, I saw Malfoy looking at me curiously; his mouth half-open as if he wanted to tell me something.

"What?" I said, a touch warily. Sometimes, I wasn't sure how much of things he picked up.

Something about my prickly attitude must have deterred him however, for he simply gave a shrug and moved away, leaving me looking after him and discovering I had been quite curious to hear what he was going to say. Before I could lament that too thoroughly, Neville brushed past me; whispering something in my ear as he did so.

"Come and meet me outside in the courtyard. Bring Terry and Antony."

"Ok," I said slowly, not being quite as subtle as he was, "But why-"

"We're being _secretive_, Meg."

"Oh."

Neville pushed through the crowd piling out the hall easily; not looking back and really appearing rather casual. I forced the inquisitive look from my face and followed him; grabbing Terry, Antony and Padma from behind some fourth years along the way.

When we finally emerged from the Entrance Hall that was currently filled with students too scared to mutter darkly about what they had just heard until they were safely back and out of earshot in their common rooms, we found Neville sitting on the edge of the fountain that had once been the site for one of Fred and George's swamps. Ah, the good old days.

I immediately realised that this was a pretty pathetic place for a secret meeting; given that nobody else was currently here. Evidently, with the Carrows presence; nobody wanted to be where they might run into them. I couldn't blame them. Every part of me wanted to be answering the riddle for the eagle knocker right now. And I never thought I would think that.

"I'll make this quick," Neville muttered; his voice almost drowned out by the rippling of the flowing water cascading down behind him. The doors opened again and Seamus and Ernie Macmillan emerged; looking nervously behind them as they shoved the doors shut.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked, "We going to reply to that little lecture?"

I had to hand it to Seamus for looking happy at the thought of doing this. Terry was looking a little ill.

"Well," Neville replied, seeming to be fighting the grin that was breaking out on his face, "I was thinking of taking a leaf out of dangerous Undesirable Number One's book."

"How so?" Antony asked; rubbing his palms together in an attempt to ward off the brisk autumnal air.

"I have one idea; that will stir things up a bit. It's going to be bad if we get caught though."

"Define: bad." I said, twirling my hair around my finger thoughtfully.

"Well, you know what happens when you're put in detention." Neville said darkly, "It's not fun. But if we can get away with this, we'll be bringing the DA to the attention of other students."

"And Snape." Antony put in quietly.

"He probably already knows." I said with a shrug, "Hence the renewal of Umbridge's stupid decree."

"Well, what's the plan?" Ernie asked cautiously, looking a little concerned.

"It's a stunner. Too bad Dean's not here with his artistic skills, really," Neville said with a mysterious smile. "It's going to require a fair bit of paint."

The paint pot clanged loudly as I accidentally knocked it against the stone wall, and I grimaced at the racket I was making.

It was dinnertime at Hogwarts, and, by some strange and mysterious mishap, the majority of the DA were not in the hall eating. In fact, we were scattered throughout various locations of the castle; each with a pot of paint that apparently made a great deal of noise when it was put within contact with stone.

We'd left a few members of the DA in the hall, so that if anyone noticed our absence; they couldn't pin down every member of the illegal group. It left Seamus, Antony, Neville, Luna, Ginny and I as the chief instigators of this particular act that I was dead sure was seriously against the school rules. I mean, it had not exactly popular back in our second year.

I peered round the corner of the third floor anxiously; the paint hidden behind my back. It wasn't like anyone could tell me off for carrying it; but if I was successful in what I was aiming to do, it wasn't going to be exactly difficult to pin me down as the cause of it.

I headed to the main corridor of the third floor, where the Charms classroom lay; the light stone walls making the object of this outing perfect.

I looked critically at the surface of the wall; selecting a large strip in between two paintings of academic-looking wizards. They took in my determined expression, and the paint pot in my hand, and seemed to work out what I was doing. I suppose you can hand it to academics to rumble you.

"Now, hold up missy." One said in a croaky voice, "You better not be doing what I think you're doing!"

"Befouling the castle is against the rules!" The other chimed in, looking scandalised,

"Oh, please," I said, unruffled, setting the paint down and taking a brush out the pocket of my robes, "Would you tell on me?"

"We most certainly would!"

"Well, that means that I get tortured within an inch of my life," I said calmly, forcing off the lid of the paint that the Room of Requirement had so faithfully given us. The acrylic smell of the green mixture reached my nose, "And this is quite an intellectual thing I'm doing. Call it...a resistance, or a stand, if you will."

"A resistance, eh?" The croaky-voiced wizard sounded quite impressed now, "Against the torture?"

"It most certainly is." I replied, plunging the brush into the pot and standing as far back as I could whilst I splashed it up onto the wall; getting green paint on me was not going to make it hard to guess who had done this.

"Are you writing a witty poem?" The other wizard asked curiously, shifting to try and look at what I was writing, "Or a catchy phrase?"

"A quote from an intellectual?" The other put in hopefully.

"Shut up." I muttered, trying to concentrate.

"Resistors, these days," The wizard tutted, "So rude."

I finally finished the rather hastily scrawled message Neville had told me to write; although I may have improvised a little. I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder as I stuffed the lid back on the paint; and was left with no choice but to carry the brush and simply leg it back to the common room. I was rather pleased with myself though.

I looked back to admire my handiwork. There; standing out lividly in the shade of paint we had selected was a hurried doodle of Snape, and underneath the writing,

_Support Harry Potter! At least he has a normal sized nose. _

When I say I improvised a little, I think it was an understatement. Neville had told me to write about Harry being a hero, but I thought this angle was better. I mean, with Snape and You Know Who combined (from what I had read in the _Daily Prophet_ before it stopped reporting that kind of thing, I could gather that You Know Who didn't have much in the way of facial features), the nose joke seemed too good too miss.

I imagined the sound of footsteps, and darted away; the paint rattling in my hands as I decidedly left the graffiti as it was.

I rounded round a corner leading to the staircases and swore.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were walking towards me; looking surly and bad-tempered.

Sometimes, I really wondered at the bad luck I seemed to have.

Malfoy noticed me first, and his eyes took in my extremely guilty expression, and the fact that I had halted where I was; like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"What are you doing?" He asked slowly; his gaze narrowing in suspicion.

"I told you earlier." I said quickly, trying to make light of this, "I'm on my way to assassinate Snape."

Goyle and Crabbe looked at me at these words, and I wondered if they actually believed me. Well, that would make things just _dandy_.

"You've got paint on your hands." Malfoy observed, and I whipped my hands behind my back; paint pot intact, although evidently far too slowly.

"No, I haven't."

Malfoy's eyes glittered, as if my pathetic deflect of his accusation was quite funny.

"You ain't supposed to be walkin' round here."

Malfoy and I turned, as if realising at the same time that we had two witnesses to our exchange. I think it was Crabbe who had spoken; but since I had only ever really heard him scream curses at me, I wasn't entirely sure.

"I'm sorry?" I said as politely as I could manage, tightening my grip on the paint to control my dislike.

"It's forbidden."

I assumed it _was_ Crabbe who had spoken, as he continued now; looking at me with a stupid grin. I raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, no it's not. Believe me, I know when I'm breaking the rules."

"She ain't supposed to be here, is she, Draco?" Crabbe nudged Malfoy, as if he wanted to share a joke with him. Malfoy looked confused until something dawned on him, and his eyes flickered to me uncertainly,

"Well, I'm definitely missing something," I said confidently, backing away slightly, "But I guess I have to be part of the sleepovers and hair braiding friendship you guys have before I get it. I'll be going now."

"Professor Amycus said we can punish people who are where they ain't sposed to be." Crabbe was really not getting the hint that I was leaving, but I kind of felt like I was missing an insinuation too. It became clear with this sentence though. Crabbe was looking for an excuse to curse me again, and I was so shocked at how horrible he was that I kind of forgot I was supposed to be leaving.

"What do you say, Draco?" Crabbe guffawed, drawing his wand, "Pansy said she's a Mudblood."

"We need to get back to the common room." Malfoy said hastily, and I wondered why I was still standing here like such a lemon. "Leave her."

"Nah." Crabbe sneered, "She's a _Mudblood-_"

"Leave her alone." Malfoy said again, and unless my brain was being overactive in my panic at this situation, I was fairly certain I heard traces of alarm in his tone, "We need to go,"

"You did it to Rowle," Crabbe scoffed, "What's the difference?"

"May I chime in here?" It seemed I had found my voice, "I don't know where you got this idea that I'm Muggle Born, but it hardly seems a very legitimate reason for cursing me."

"Go on, Draco," Crabbe leered, completely ignoring me, "Curse her!"

"I said no!"

I wasn't the only one surprised at this outburst. Crabbe and Goyle both flicked unsure glances at Draco; the panic that had caused his voice to grow raised now showing in his face.

Unlike me, Crabbe and Goyle didn't take much time debating over the reason for this. Or at least, Crabbe didn't.

"Lost your backbone, Draco?" He jeered, "Fine. _Crucio!_"

I was ready to duck, but before the spell had been fully voiced, Malfoy had shoved him sideways; so the spell flew several metres to my right; smashing into the wall and causing rubble to explode from it. A few paintings nearby squawked in protest.

"What you doing?" Crabbe bellowed at Malfoy, trying to brandish his wand in my direction. Once again, I did a fabulous impression of an inanimate object, a little unable to close my mouth in shock at everything that was happening.

"Go back to the common room!" Malfoy yelled, "A teacher could be along here at any minute!"

I was expecting a reply along the lines of 'no', but Crabbe stopped trying to aim at me, and gave Malfoy a dirty glare.

"You ain't always gonna be able to order me about, _Draco_." He grunted, "You're dad is nearly as good as finished."

He shrugged off Malfoy's arm and staggered away; Goyle pausing stupidly before following him; leaving a very uncomfortable silence behind them.

I let out a long breath I didn't remember holding, and shuffled my feet; the paint pot clanking behind my back slightly.

"Wow," I said, raising an eyebrow, as Malfoy flicked me a look, breathing heavily, "That was actually mildly heroic of you."

"You're welcome." He snapped, kicking at the rubble that had been blown from the wall from the impact of Crabbe's curse. I bit my lip, forcing out a joke to disguise the confused feelings thundering around inside me at what had just happened.

"So did I just break up the dream team? 'Cos I'm not sure I can live with that."

"Shut up, Forester."

"Aw, I thought you liked talking to me." I grinned weakly, getting into my stride, "You can walk me back to my common room if you like."

"No thanks."

"You're being very chatty this evening."

"What were you doing?" Malfoy asked, ignoring my sarcasm and flicking another glance to the paint concealed behind my back still. I say concealed, but we both knew it was there.

"Nothing." I said with an innocent shrug, "Just re-decorating, I suppose."

He looked at me, as if torn between suspicion and amusement. I couldn't help but look straight back.

"I guess I should say thank you." I said feebly, not quite able to look away from his eyes. What was it about them?

"I'll say so." He said without breaking a smile.

"Oh, you're being charming as well." I sighed, wondering where this sudden grumpiness was coming from. Out of the blue, I remembered something Crabbe had said just now. I looked at Malfoy, and after a moment's hesitation, took a step towards him, lowering my voice.

"Crabbe seemed to think that you'd cast the Cruciatus Curse before." I said quietly, almost afraid of the reply. Malfoy didn't break his gaze from me, but the light in his eyes dulled slightly; as if what I had said had crushed him slightly. He didn't reply, but I got the answer I had been dreading from his silence.

"Why, Draco?" I whispered, wondering why it wasn't hate, or aversion that was filling my heart that I liked to think had occupied it over summer, "What went so wrong that you're in this situation?"

"You're not that stupid, Meg." He replied, "In fact, you're actually surprisingly clever."

"Assume I'm stupid then." I breathed, about a foot from him now, "Explain it to me."

"I can't." He sighed, and the feeling of déjà vu settled thick over me. Here we were again. Me wanting answers, and him unable to give them to me.

"Because you don't want to tell me?" I asked tentatively, "Or because you're not allowed to talk about it?"

"I'm allowed to," He replied, his forehead crumpling as if that were obvious, "I just don't want to."

"Why?" I challenged, an unexplained anger flaring suddenly, "Aren't you proud of yourself? You finally got to be where you said you wanted to be all these years! Goodness knows you spent enough time gloating over your connections!"

He looked at me, not responding for a moment, and it were as if he were seeing just how foolish I was being right now. I certainly felt like an idiot, at least.

Before I could say anything, he spoke,

"You're not stupid Meg," He repeated, "But sometimes you can be phenomenally wrong."

He walked away, leaving me standing there; the paint still clasped in my hands, and suddenly mourning for the lack of space there had been between us. I didn't entirely understand what he had meant, but I could admit he had a point as I thought about the misery I kept seeing in his expression; and how he seemed to be a shadow of his former self. A ghost, as I had once called him.

I watched him disappear, and I considered that, not for the first time, I may have actually been very wrong about quite a few things.


	9. Chapter 9

**My internet has been acting like the spawn of the devil these past few days...so I'm so sorry for the long wait this time around! But thanks again for being so patient and forgiving my tardiness xD**

**And fangs for the lurverly reviews...geddit cos I'm goffik? :P**

**Wherein I'm not as subtle as I thought I was and I think a happy little thought.**

I'd like to think that it was my particular act of vandalism that caused the excited buzz that swept over the school on Sunday, rather than the several sets of anti-Carrow and anti-Snape comments that littered other floors of the school. Someone, and I was pretty convinced it was Seamus, had dared to sneak along to the corridor right outside the staff room to draw a particularly good cartoon of the Carrows falling foul of the Giant Squid. I had personally never liked him more.

"You don't think it's a little obvious who was responsible?" Terry asked, flicking Neville's _Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting_ slogan a look as we walked past it; the other students gazing at it in awe and whispering excitedly amongst themselves. I shrugged.

"He has no evidence as to who is in the DA," I replied confidently, "And he has no way of finding out."

"Veritaserum," Terry responded immediately, smashing my happy bubble, "Or torture."

"Wow," I snorted, "You are just full of joyful thoughts today."

"I really am glad you took a stand," Terry said hastily, "But I just think it was risky."

I could see his point, which was why I didn't reply. But there was no way I was going to regret this. It at least made seeing Snape and the Carrows around the school bearable; particularly now students were laughing at them behind their backs.

The hype over the vandalised walls still hadn't died down by the start of next week, and Filch could be seen scrubbing futilely at the writing; Mrs Norris looking at passing students as if daring them to snigger. Despite his best efforts, the paint remained stubbornly in place.

It was Monday afternoon when we were queuing for Charms class. The day had turned abnormally warm for autumn, and many students had their robes hanging off the back of their bags; their sleeves rolled up for the unaccustomed heat rolling through the corridors. I was mildly irritated at this weather; I was already anticipating Christmas, where I could go home and escape the castle, no matter what kind of resistance we were putting up. This sunshine was mentally setting me back into thoughts of summer; a place I didn't want to be again after my last experience with it. I was also hating the line of thought plaguing my mind that I wanted to leave here, when normally I would have to be forced onto the Hogwarts Express, kicking and screaming. Usually literally.

Beside me now, Terry and Antony were busy talking about the Holyhead Harpies start to the Quidditch season. Whilst I could like Quidditch when I was playing it, I had little interest in the games played outside of school where barely anyone fell off their brooms and it was a lot more serious, and therefore dull, so I was instead concentrating on looking at my Snape cartoon with satisfaction, blocking out all chatter on the biased opinions of the referee until another voice cut across my consciousness.

"Who do you reckon it's supposed to be?"

I was used to Malfoy's voice in my ear by this point, but I had to say him talking to me with so many other people about was entirely unexpected. So unexpected that rather annoyingly, I jumped.

"What?" I asked, trying to pretend that hadn't happened and looking at his expression. He gestured impatiently to the wall; where on either side of my message, the two portraits were eyeing me smugly.

"The picture. Who do you reckon it's of?"

There was a glint in his eyes that told me he knew exactly who it was, and my tired brain grew confused at his question. And a little narked that he had to ask.

"It's obviously Professor Snape." I said, slightly nettled. Honestly, it wasn't that bad a caricature.

"You think?" Malfoy asked lightly, studying it with a frown that didn't quite match the small smile on his lips,

"Yes." I pouted.

"Well, the artist should be ashamed of themselves."

There was something very knowing in the look he sent me, and I worked extremely hard not to look guilty, or furious.

"_I_ think they were a genius." I finally said stiffly.

"So genius they run around the school with a pot of paint?"

My eyes scanned his face, narrowed shrewdly. In the old days, before he was on my mind so much, and before he found a habit of confusing me senseless with the things he said or did, I would have been certain that he would take the opportunity that I had broken the rules to report me to a teacher, and definitely smirked as he did so.

That was the old days though. It wasn't only our relationship that had changed. His reporting me wouldn't only bring detention, but the kind of detention that the Carrows liked to hand out. I didn't think that anyone was in any doubt now as to the kind of people they were.

And no matter what he had done, or how he had acted towards me, I knew that he would never tell anyone about this.

I therefore felt myself grinning, completely caught out, and was a little surprised when he grinned back.

Confusing me senseless yet again.

As usual, Charms didn't go too well; given that the brief conversation with Malfoy beforehand had thrown me slightly, and that I could never get through casting a Banishing Charm without breaking something. This time, it was the string holding a portrait up, which fell onto Pansy Parkinson; both emitting loud squawks of protest. As I had once had my arm pointing several degrees the wrong way after a Quidditch match, I held very little sympathy for her.

Tuesday morning saw Terry and I walking down to the greenhouses for double Herbology. Antony and Padma had abandoned us early at breakfast with the excuse of getting to class early, and whilst I had been totally oblivious and not caught the hint, Terry had; and as a result we had let them continue on alone. I was still sniggering.

Terry, on the other hand, seemed overly thoughtful, and it was only when we were heading down the sloping lawns towards the greenhouses that he vented what was on his mind.

"Meg, can I ask you something?"

I looked up from a poster of the Weird Sisters I had torn out of the _Daily Prophet_ to look at the serious expression on his face,

"What's up?" I asked lightly, wondering if this was a DA-graffiti-related telling off. Since the weekend I had used the excuses of, 'who else was going to do it?' and 'We're doing this for Harry' and even 'I'm just a troubled person, ok?' so now I was wondering what other angle I could go for to get him to lay off me. Terry, however, was thinking about something else entirely.

"Well, it was just that I saw you talking to Malfoy yesterday," Terry hesitated, and I felt an unexpected swoop of dread hit me. Not yet, I wasn't ready for this conversation yet. How did somebody go about explaining what was going on in my mind? I didn't have the first clue myself.

I hastily forced a nonchalant expression onto my face, wondering what on earth I was going to say.

"Oh." I finally settled for. "What about it?"

"I was just wondering if there was anything you wanted to tell me."

I hated the feeling of guilt that spread over me at those words. I mean, there was a hell of a lot that I wanted to tell him; especially where Malfoy was concerned. I ached to tell him, but at the same time it was the last thing I wanted to do. And I knew it was because I couldn't handle the look that his eyes might hold if he couldn't understand. And why would he? The only side he had ever seen from Malfoy was when he was being unbearably horrible, and Terry had witnessed everything Malfoy had done towards the end of term. He was the enemy.

Apparently.

"No." I said determinedly, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the stone wall surrounded the perimeter of the greenhouses we were walking by, so he couldn't see just how guilty my expression was, "What kind of thing would there be?"

"I just thought you were getting friendly." Terry said with a shrug, and he seemed a little embarrassed at having brought it up. That made two of us.

"Friendly with _Malfoy_?" I repeated, forcing a laugh. "Is that even possible?" Yes. Yes it really was.

"That's what I-"

Terry cut off as we passed a trellis of crawling ivy and I immediately knew why.

The path was sunlight and frosty; the crumbling stone wall just revealing the tips of the iron structured greenhouses on the other side. To an onlooker, none of this would have given a reason for the look of fear suddenly crossing Terry's face. But I could feel it.

A coldness had swept over me; like being dunked under extremely icy water. I knew this feeling far too well from our third year; the feeling that had the capacity to make my hands shake and make every good feeling I had vanish as if it had never existed.

"Oh no." I whispered, hoping I was seriously wrong and the sun had just disappeared behind the clouds momentarily. "How can they be here?"

"Just remember what Lupin and Harry taught us." Terry murmured, drawing his wand. Just as he did so, two of them glided round the corner.

Somehow I had remembered Dementors as less terrifying; perhaps a little shorter; and I had forgotten that horrible, rattling breath they could emit. It was like I had blanked it from my memory, but now, standing here, recognition hit me a thousand times worse than any recollection of them I had retained from four years ago. They were towering monsters; their cloaks covering their faces, but not stretching far enough to hide scabbed hands that made my stomach want to resurface my Cheery-Owls.

Remember what Harry and Lupin had taught us. That was suddenly exceptionally hard. How could I produce a happy thought strong enough to ward them off? My mind was suddenly overrun with horrible memories; the slamming of a door which I had always associated with my dad leaving; the time Terry and I hadn't spoken, and out of nowhere, Malfoy looking at me as Greyback bore down on me; just standing there as I tried not to scream.

"Expecto Patronum!" Terry barked, the silver light his wand produced causing the accumulating frost to glitter viciously. I was frozen, my hands uselessly by my side, but somehow he had jarred me back to life. A happy thought. Anything.

As if my brain had been sitting on it unconsciously for a long time, I plucked a perfect memory from my mind. The cobblestones beneath my feet, the feel of Malfoy's hair between my fingertips as his arms wound around me; pulling me closer.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Every other time I had attempted this in the DA meetings two years ago, nothing more than a few wisps of smoke were produced to feebly drift away and not ward off anymore than a few flies. Given that I wasn't exactly short of great memories, I had found this extremely frustrating.

But now, light erupted from the wand tip; throwing the surroundings into such steep contrast everything turned sharply into black and white. I caught a brief flash of an animal; small and lumbering; charging towards the two Dementors.

They scattered; swooping away high into the air; taking with them the coldness that had been consuming me; feeling like they had released a pressure on my chest, and allowing my brain to focus again.

I looked at the thick smoke that had caused them to disappear, and met the would-be dark liquid eyes of a young bear cub; its large paws twice the size of my hands and its fur shaggy and slightly matted as it looked at me placidly, as if wondering what to do now. There was an ungainly quality hidden beneath those youthful eyes that made me smile slightly.

"Thanks." I whispered as it faded.

I stared at the spot where it had vanished, trying to collect my thoughts and shove the horrible memories from my mind. It took me a while to realise Terry was speaking.

"Meg!" I tuned in to hear his hushed, excited tones, "That was a corporeal Patronus!"

"Eh?" I asked blankly, finally distracted,

"It turned into an animal! Have you any idea how difficult that magic is?"

"Didn't yours?"

"Of course not! That was amazing!"

I didn't know what was harder to believe. That I had just successfully cast a spell, or that Terry was now looking at me with wonder and a little bit of envy.

"Well," I said, deciding I didn't really like this feeling, "Herbology, right?"

Thankfully we weren't too far from the greenhouses, but we were already late for the lesson; each group of four students already supplied with their baby Venomous Tentacula plant and set about to prune it.

"Sorry we're late," I said loudly, marching into the classroom as Terry meekly followed me, "The grounds have a bit of a Dementor problem."

At that, the only sound to be heard was the rustling and muffled squawking of some mandrakes over on the mud-littered shelves. Someone dropped their trowel with a loud clang. I slapped a Venomous Tentacula vine aside that had been reaching tentatively out towards me and headed over to Antony and Padma who had saved us a seat.

"What-" Antony began, then cut himself off as not really sure how to begin.

"There were Dementors in the grounds." Terry supplied, ignoring how the majority of the class were still looking our way. "But Meg cast a Patronus Charm-"

"-And chased them off with a baby grizzly bear." I finished proudly. Over in her corner, Pansy snorted. "I must say I'm glad. I was worried it was going to be a porcupine."

I looked up and unintentionally caught Malfoy's eye as I spoke. He gave me the ghost of a smile before his Venomous Tentacula reclaimed his attention. I felt myself blushing. He had been a rather powerful happy memory, after all. If only he hadn't supplied me with so many bad ones.

Despite my joking, there was a small layer of unhappiness that I found creeping into my thoughts for the rest of the day; and I fancied I could see the same expression in Terry's eyes as he sat next to me in lessons; copying down notes as if he were only half-listening for a change. I suppose it was completely natural to feel this way after a run in with two guards of Azkaban, but I would still prefer the deep rooted feeling of hopelessness to be on its way. I didn't need anything else to drag my spirits down further than they already were.

Perhaps through the previous day's unusual events, or the sheer amount of things on my mind, I woke up so early on Wednesday morning that the light creeping in through the arched windows in the dormitory was hued in a dusky blue; and when I sat up; running a hand through my hair with a grimace, I could make out a few pinpricks of stars still scattered along the sky.

Much to my annoyance, when I flopped back down on the pillows I realised there was no way I was going back to sleep. My mind was wide awake; and no drowsiness was tugging at my eyelids. I lay there, bored, listening to the breathing of other people sleeping, and decided that getting up was probably the best idea right now. I shuffled out from the warm covers; shoving on my ever-reliable bed socks and trudged down to the common room, yawning tremendously.

It wasn't much more interesting there either; with all the paintings snoring and not a living soul in sight. I lapped the room a couple of times and skim read the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, and even tried at guessing the _Potterwatch_ password (to no avail, obviously) before I settled on the idea of leaving the common room for the outside world.

I had never been in the position of leaving the common room this early before, but I heavily doubted that any teachers would be awake and roaming the castle. And did this early in the morning comprise for being out of bed after hours, or not?

Given that it was nowhere near the time of day to be even considering of thinking of things like that, I made up my mind. As I headed for the door, my eyes lit on a battered broom lying abandoned under a coffee table. Given that Quidditch had made an unspoken and decidedly unquestioned disappearance this year, the broom didn't look like it would be seeing the outside world this year. I regarded it thoughtfully, and deciding that nobody was going to miss it with every Ravenclaw- bar me- sleeping, I grabbed it; marching out the door and stopping briefly to give a grunt of apology to the eagle knocker, which was not amused at my waking it up.

"It's just selfish, you know!" It called after me hoarsely, and I tried to hide my laughter at its downright indignation, "Just plain selfish!"

As I had anticipated, I didn't meet another living soul all the way to the Entrance Hall, save Nearly Headless Nick, who was muttering something under his breath about the Headless Hunt. But he didn't quite constitute for a living soul, I suppose.

I slipped out through the front doors, the broomstick clutched in my hands and was met with the brisk, outside world of the early hours; all the surroundings swathed in a fine fog that was stained a pale yellow from a rising sun that was not yet visible.

I hopped down the few steps to the grass and immediately leapt backwards; owing to the grass being soaking wet with dew.

Left with little choice, I didn't wait long to leap onto the broomstick, not enjoying the sharp cold now on my toes. I kicked off from the ground inelegantly, and felt the biting air turn into a wind that awakened me more vigorously than any other wake up call. Even that one time Peeves had helpfully turned a bucket of water on my head one morning.

I flew about three metres from the ground, not entirely sure if flying outside the Quidditch pitch was allowed, yet heavily sceptical any teacher would be peering out their windows at this time of morning.

I headed idly past the greenhouses, before remembering the Dementors, and angled higher; looking around me and mentally cursing myself for my stupidity. One corporeal Patronus aside, I was hardly going to be able to take on more than two by myself.

Still, it wasn't quite enough to make me turn around and head back indoors. Nobody was going to be awake yet; and I liked how clear this freezing air made my head.

I landed on a rough, untended bank that gradually sloped into the lake at the end of the grounds. Above me arched the high hillside that surrounded the castle; eventually tumbling down into other lakes and their surrounding hills. I suppose I was a little ignorant with the exact details of my location; but sometimes I felt like I didn't want to know; as if this were a secret place I was swept along to every year, away from Muggle life. Which in a way, it really was.

I perched up on the tree stump; keeping my body out of contact with anything soggy, and wriggling my toes in the attempt to get life back into them as I watched the sun gently scratch the horizon; a blindingly white ball so many millions of miles away. I sat there, watching my breath steam and the day chase the night into nonexistence as any stars faded from sight and the sun swept everything in a warm, pale yellow shade.

It was hard not to think of this time last year, seeming like another lifetime. It was just October now, and if my memory wasn't as hazy as it usually was, this was the time when I had accidentally stumbled across Malfoy's secret when his owl had dive-bombed me. Somehow he had never really grasped the 'accidentally' part. Once again, I was completely thrown at just how much everything had changed. Malfoy, Hogwarts, everything. I was also thrown at how much time I needed to mull this over again and again in my mind. It seemed every time I was on my own, my mind would turn back to Draco, and I was torn between being annoyed at myself, and wondering if I was even supposed to be thinking about him. I mean, there were so many dark things in the world now; Death Eaters, You Know Who, and how many dark and melancholic things was I seeing in the _Quibbler_, or hearing on _Potterwatch_. Why was I dedicating my time to him, in what seemed to be a maze of thoughts that always led me back to the same place? And that place was dead confused.

I was starting to lose feeling in my toes by this point; and glancing at my watch, I hoped that there would be at least someone up and about that I could talk to.

It turned out I should be more careful for what I wish for.

As I snuck in through the doors; wincing as the broom hit against the doorframe, I saw a tall figure ascending the staircase leading down to the Dungeons. I had frozen guiltily, but as I recognised Malfoy, I was merely overcome with a mixture of amusement and mild embarrassment of having just been contemplating him.

"Now I know you're stalking me." I scoffed, choosing an old joke and watching as he started in surprise, looking up at me as he mounted the last few stairs.

"Why were you outside?" He asked, frowning as I slammed the door shut.

"Taking a walk." I replied as he leant backwards against the stone banisters, observing me. "Sleep was proving rather elusive. You're up early."

Malfoy's lips twisted in an almost-smile as he spoke,

"Perhaps I was woken up by the incessant noise you manage to make wherever you go."

I scowled, and he was unfortunately backed up by the loud clang of the broomstick hitting a suit of armour. I clamped a hand to it hastily; ceasing the echoing vibrations filling the air. Malfoy raised an amused eyebrow.

"I thought we'd fallen out after you told me off." I said hastily to cover up any possible comment he may have. "About how misunderstood and tormented you are and all."

"Ah, you're in a sarcastic mood today, I see."

"I've never gone to the Dungeons that way before, you know," I observed as I reached the banisters beside him, peering over them to look at the floor below, "What's it like?"

"It's dark and green and wholly uninteresting." He replied immediately, barely following my gaze.

"Hey, what happened to the house pride?" I questioned, flashing him a mischievous grin, "There was a time when you would never shut up about Slytherin's supremacy."

"I suppose I just don't care anymore." He sighed, "What's the point?"

"That's the attitude," I said, continuing with the sarcastic mood I was supposed to be in, "You keep that up and that will show everyone."

"Like being happy is going to make a difference, Forester."

"I actually disagree with you." I smiled thinly, still looking down at the floor below us, "Moping will just make you feel worse. At least try and fight it."

"Like painting walls in protest?"

"Hey, that made me feel immensely happier." I grinned, turning to face him now, "But seriously, you can't really just be resigning yourself to everything that's happening at the moment. Giving up is just admitting defeat."

"I gave up a year ago." He said quietly, almost as if he didn't want me to hear it, his hand jumping to his left arm almost subconsciously. But, however, I certainly had heard it.

Almost without thinking or contemplation, my hand whipped out on its own accord; grabbing his and winding my fingers through his own. He looked at me in surprise, though he didn't pull away. In all fairness, I was pretty surprised too. Not that I was going to back down right now.

"You can't be like that." I told him firmly, "You just can't. It's not going to make anything easier, you know. And it's pretty annoying to watch, if I'm being honest."

Malfoy looked down at me and I realised just how much taller he was now. He could almost have passed for an adult if it wasn't for that constantly lost look in his eyes.

"Now who's telling who off?" He finally said, managing a smile. I had the decency to look a little sheepish.

"You know I'm right though." I finally said with an insincerely pompous tone, "I _am_ a Ravenclaw, after all."

"It's hard to tell sometimes." He taunted, his lip curling slightly.

"Wow, was that a smirk?" I asked in mock astonishment, stepping closer as if to get a better look, "I'd forgotten what they look like."

"Hilarious, Forester." He said softly, not trying to correct our sudden proximity. I suddenly realised I was still holding his hand, and released him hastily, for some reason now fighting the heat rising to my face. I'd kind of forgotten what we were talking about, so I was rather glad when he spoke again.

"I think you hide a lot more than most people think, you know."

I let that dissolve the conversation a while, stepping back to lean against the banister once again, until I realised I didn't know what he had meant,

"How so?" I asked, shifting to look at his expression. No hints there.

"You joke a lot," He said with a shrug, meeting my gaze, "But you're not very happy at the moment, are you?"

"I-"

"I mean, when you're alone, and there's nobody to tell lame jokes for; are you happy?"

I considered this. At first the answer was an unhesitating yes. I mean, I had two of the greatest friends in the world, a family who loved me and tonnes of other stuff to be thankful for. Bar Fitzwilliam and my lack of academic intelligence.

But right now? Right now I hadn't been able to sleep well owing to the run in with Dementors in the school grounds. Dementors that had been there because our murderous Headmaster had let them in; along with employing two Death Eaters at the same time. I had been tortured, had learnt absolutely nothing in the majority of my classes, and was spending my last year living in trepidation, in a place that I had once loved more than anything. Not to mention that whole Malfoy issue that had had me depressed all summer.

The truth escaped from me before I could really harness it in.

"No." I whispered to Malfoy's chest, "Not really."

"Me neither."

I looked up and met his eyes, and the small, sad smile on his lips as he held my gaze. There it was again, that look in his eyes that I couldn't tear my gaze away from, no matter how long I stood here.

A voice behind me made me jump.

"Miss Forester."

I turned round whilst assuming my most guileless and innocent expression, to find Snape looking at me, evidently not the least bit persuaded that I was guileless and innocent.

"Good morning, professor." I tried, wondering why it always sounded like I was being contemptuous whenever I spoke to him. Not that I minded.

"It falls on me to tell you that Hagrid is expecting you at nine o'clock, tomorrow evening." He said icily, his black eyes dead.

"Why?" I asked blankly, feeling I had completely missed something. Snape looked at me with that same fathomless expression that I quickly decided I really hated.

"For detention," He said softly, and I felt my heart sink, "Vandalism is not tolerated at my school. Particularly when what is being written may give someone the impression that you have chosen the wrong side."

As he stalked away and I turned to give Malfoy a half-hearted grin, to which I was met with a rather forceful look in his pale eyes, I decided that I couldn't disagree with Snape more. After everything Malfoy and I had each been through there was only one conclusion for me to make. In this war, there was only one right side.

And I was most certainly on it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry I've become such a fail at uploading...college is proving pretty stressful at the moment and I've been a bit limited with time. I made the chapter longer in an attempt to make up for it ho ho ho :P**

**Thanks again for all the lovely reviews! I'm happy to hear you are all enjoying the story!**

**Over and out :D **

**In which I lose my temper, and wander with werewolves. In the most un-Gilderoy Lockhart way possible. **

I received the news that I would be going into the Forbidden Forest for my detention at breakfast the next day, along with a bit of other, rather momentous news.

"You did _what_?" I exclaimed loudly at Neville Longbottom, and was indirectly the cause of lots of heads swivelling in our direction.

"Please, talk _louder_," Ginny snorted and I shot her a scowl.

"We went to steal the sword of Gryffindor from Snape's office." Neville repeated in a calm voice, sending Ginny a warning look.

"May I ask why?" Terry put in weakly, which was much politer way of phrasing it than the version I had.

"Ginny remembers Harry talking about it." Neville began, before Ginny cut him off,

"And I thought it would make life a lot easier if we got it."

"Too bad you got caught, huh?" I said idly, earning two sets of glares,

"I might say the same." Ginny said stiffly.

"I didn't get _caught_," I replied, somewhat irked, "Crabbe probably, somehow, managed to put two and two together in his thick head and ratted me out."

"I think that's the same thing, Meg." Luna said dreamily as she put her copy of the _Quibbler_ aside, "But at least we all have detention with Hagrid. He may not be a very good teacher, but at least he won't curse us."

"He is a good teacher." Ginny snapped, before relaxing slightly, "But yes, you have a point."

"Yeah," I put in a trifle sarcastically, returning to wolfing down scrambled egg, "The Forbidden Forest? That's going to be an absolute breeze."

Perhaps it was a good thing that the bell for lessons went shortly after, as I don't think I'd made myself particularly popular this morning.

Terry and I headed off for Potions, where we found most of the class queuing to go in already. I concentrated on trying to catch Malfoy's eye until Sampson woke up in my rucksack, and caused mild disruption as he showed his enthusiasm for Potions class with a pretty ridiculous array of hooting and shrieking. Sometimes I felt myself regretting the moment when my eleven year old self had claimed that having an owl would be much less hassle than keeping a cat at Hogwarts.

Slughorn seemed more subdued than normal as he ushered us into the classroom once I had controlled the loud owl situation. I could only assume it was the presence of Death Eaters finally getting to him. He didn't strike me as the type to want to be involved in anything that made him the slightest bit uncomfortable.

He set about tasking us with brewing a Sleeping Draught, claiming it was a simple concoction we had made before. I didn't take his word for it. The word 'simple' had been followed by too many of my cauldrons melting for me to believe him.

As if to enforce my point, ten minutes in Seamus caused a loud bang to ring out, although only causing a few people to jump slightly. Years of lessons with Seamus had taught people that every so often things just had a habit of spontaneously combusting around him, and you just had to get used to it.

Determined not to earn that reputation for myself, I was pretty conscientious this time around, actually reading the instructions more than once and making sure I selected the correct ingredients from the store cupboard. Terry still had to correct me when I was a little too eager to grab some unicorn hair.

Given that we no longer had Snape for these lessons, his well-constructed seating plan that had been the bane of my life for a long time had kind of disintegrated. As a result, people were sitting with friends. Or at the very least avoiding the Slytherins. I actually found myself a little disappointed at this. I guess I admitted it; I quite liked Potions when Malfoy was sitting next to me. Purely because I could frustrate him with the mess and clever comments I made, of course.

However, whilst busy measuring the correct about of Valerian Sprigs onto my battered scales, I heard a voice in my ear that brought about a strong bout of déjà vu.

"Been up to any more early morning walks?"

A few extra sprigs scattered forwards into the pile, and I gritted my teeth as I flicked a smiling Malfoy a glance.

"Nope." I said shortly, looking back at my scales, "And it's unlikely I'll be sneaking out again soon."

He cocked and eyebrow and began to play with the knife lying on the desk, rolling the hilt lazily,

"How come? It's second nature for you, isn't it?"

"I have detention tonight." I snorted, tapping my cauldron in the hope it would heat up faster, "There's only so much rule breaking I do before I'm caught."

I don't know if I imagined it, but Malfoy's fingers slipped slightly, causing the knife's blade to press into the desk; leaving a small incision.

"Again?" He asked, flicking me an almost alarmed look, "With the Carrows?"

"Nah, with Hagrid." I corrected and was met with a disbelieving snort. I flashed him a sincere look, "Seriously. But I guess I can thank one of your friends that I have to go into the Forbidden Forest tonight?"

"Hmm," Malfoy pondered in a low voice, "_Friends_. And yes, you probably do."

I let the conversation die as I focused on pitching the sprigs into the bottom of the cauldron, examining the effect. For once, I think it may be working. But I had to say Malfoy's presence was distracting me slightly.

"I had detention in there once." Malfoy finally started speaking again, and I flicked over the page of _Advanced Potion Making_, my fingers sticky with sprig sap.

"And you got mauled by a hippogriff in there too." I said with a reminiscing smile, detaching my fingers from the pages, "So what was it like? Full of fluffy bunnies and rainbows, right?"

"If you count werewolves and cloaked figures eating unicorns as bunnies, then yes." I made a good show of appearing pretty undeterred, and carried on pretending to read the instructions before me. It had really been going so well.

"A grizzly bear cub then, hmm?" Malfoy changed the subject again, and I got the sneaking suspicion he was lunging for the nearest topic he could find. I wasn't particularly sure if it was because he was avoiding working for as long as he could, or if he actually was enjoying my company. It was more likely the first choice.

"It can probably eat your Patronus." I countered lightly, smiling, "Which I imagine would be something very small and irritating."

"Must have been a very happy thought," Malfoy mused, ignoring my comment. I very un-accidentally nudged my book with my elbow, causing it to fall to the floor with a bang. I bent to retrieve it in a valiant effort to conceal my face, which I could feel was turning a magnificent shade of tomato.

"You know; you getting mauled by a hippogriff," I finally responded when I had recollected my scattered thoughts, still on the floor, "or when Moody turned you into a ferret. The usual happy stuff." Somehow, I didn't think it would be the greatest idea to bring up the exact details. I looked up to see Terry still at the store cupboard, and a sudden recollection of what he and I had been talking about before the whole Patronus had been necessary was brought back to light.

"Terry thinks we're getting along swimmingly." I said in a slightly lower tone, getting to my feet again and setting the book back on the table. I wondered if Malfoy caught the mild disconcertment in my voice.

"And I hope you told him it was none of his business?" Malfoy replied instantly, his fingers rolling a dead caterpillar gently along my desk. I decided to ignore that bit.

"Don't be mean."

"Oh right, _sorry_."

I snatched the caterpillar from him, abandoning caring about the potion as I shoved it into the liquid. It frothed and turned a delicate shade of vomit. Probably not correct.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" I hinted none too gently, glancing a futile look at the blackboard. It merely confirmed I had mucked it up.

"Why don't you look at me first, and then I'll go and pretend to work."

His words confused me slightly. I suppose my eyes had been darting around a bit for a while, but who cared?

Apparently someone did.

As if it were no big deal, when really my heart had suddenly accelerated like the pistons on a train for some reason, I turned to meet his eyes.

For about three seconds.

"Well, that was immensely brave of you Forester," Malfoy snorted, for some reason sounding pleased with himself, "You're going to do fantastically in the forest tonight."

With that he walked away, but not before giving me a playful pat on my shoulder. His warmth seemed to linger on the skin beneath my shirt where he had touched me, and slightly unnerved, I feebly turned back to look at my cauldron.

"Oh...no."

I had left it unattended too long. In protest, it had overheated; the potion seeping out in large, gloopy clumps that bubbled sluggishly.

"Hmmmmm." Terry agreed, finally coming over and peering over my shoulder. "Is it supposed to look like that?"

"Of course it is," I replied, deadpan, "You want to try some?"

From the look of horror his face assumed, I took it to mean his refusal.

It was nine fifteen.

I leapt off the steps to the Entrance Hall and legged it over the grass that looked navy blue in the darkening light. I was pretty impressed with myself that I didn't fall over as the long grass tangled across my feet as I ran down the sharp hill tumbling down towards Hagrid's Hut. The soft orange glow of lit lamps shone through his windows and greeted me as I hurtled down to the pumpkin patch where I had once buried Fitzwilliam when I thought he was dead. To be fair, it had been a very honest mistake.

There, on the outside of the makeshift fence, stood Ginny, Neville, Luna and Hagrid. And a massive boarhound that I had seen a few times around the grounds, but had steered well clear of, owing to the fact that he was probably two times taller than me if he stood on his hind legs.

"Sorry!" I gasped, grinding to a halt and resting my hands on my knees, completely exhausted already, "I didn't see the time!"

"S'no matter," Hagrid grunted. I suppose he had heard the excuse a fair few times back when I had taken Care of Magical Creatures. That was the one lesson that Terry had never been that eager to get to, either.

"Now you're all here, I'll tell yeh that we're gunna be going into the forest tonigh'," Hagrid continued, now addressing everyone as he readjusted a giant crossbow he was holding. I eyed it warily, wondering what was calling for the use of it, "Nothing too dangerous, mind you. Professor Slughorn's been wanting some Wolfsbane for his store cupboard, so we're gunna get it for him."

"Crumple-Horned Snorkhacks eat Wolfsbane, you know." Luna put in happily.

"Righ'," Hagrid said, evidently trying to decide whether she was being serious or not, "Well, we don' need ter go too far into the forest, anyway. But ter be safe, we'll go as a group."

"Is the dog some kind of heroic shape shifter or something?" I asked hopefully, taking in the size of its paws. Hagrid chuckled as if I had just told a brilliant joke, and didn't answer.

I got why it was so funny as Hagrid led us into the forest. The dog was trailing further behind everyone than I was, every so often emitting long, reluctant grunts and moans. It was almost like having a particularly cantankerous human trot along beside me. Malfoy sprung to mind.

"But I imagine you're a lot less mucked up, hmm?" I murmured to him, and he looked at me with his liquid, brown eyes, and let out a soft mewl.

"C'mon Fang!" Hagrid called, and once Fang took off; leaping over the branches and puddles to reach his master, I was left alone. Unsurprisingly, I sprinted after them not long afterwards

"-Haven't heard anything." Ginny was saying in a worried voice, not having noticed my arrival, "And I don't know whether it's a good thing or not."

"Definitely a good thing." Neville said quickly, "There's no way he can contact us here. It's far too risky."

"We're talking about Harry right?" I put in, and everyone jumped. I took in the anxious faces I instantly created with a mixture of amusement and frustration. "Oh come on. I'm in the DA. I'm in detention here because I just destroyed a school wall. Do you really think I'm going to go blabbing to Snape and the Carrows? They're not my best friends, in case you hadn't noticed."

"We know, Meg," Neville said ruefully, "Sorry. And yeah, we're talking about Harry."

"Oh brilliant!" I said brightly, "Have you heard from him?"

They apparently missed that I was joking, or maybe they had got it. Either way, now everyone ignored me.

"There's notin' we can do here," Hagrid was saying wisely to Ginny, "'Cept for raising morale and making sure nobody gets hurt."

"Especially the younger students." Neville added, "They didn't ask to be in this mess."

"I don't remember asking for it either." I informed Fang. He gave a bark. I had the feeling we were getting along swimmingly.

"Why don't we make that the responsibility of the DA?" Luna suggested, the moon reflecting in her eyes, making them look twice as large, "I think that would be a _wonderful_ idea."

"Actually that's not bad." Ginny agreed, sounding surprised that she had found herself agreeing with Luna.

I was about to suggest we add Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks and Nifflers to the list of DA aims, but at that moment Hagrid gestured towards a tangled knot of trees that branched off towards our left. No pun intended.

"Wolfsbane grows around here," He said, gesturing three hundred and sixty degrees around us, "There's a small lake through them trees but nothin' else to be wary of. We'll all go differen' ways and meet back here in a few minutes."

I shrewdly took in my surroundings so I actually knew where 'here' was. Then, fishing my wand out my pocket and whispering "_lumos"_, I made my way to the left; towards the overbearing, spindly branches.

My wand light threw the undergrowth into sharp relief; making the trees appear sharp as knife ends, tinted in the eerie blue glow from my wand.

I could hear Neville and the others through the trees, and the mutters and faint glow of other wands being lit. But right now, in this tangled undergrowth that seemed like a maze, it was me, myself and I.

I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding and slowly moved through the undergrowth. For some reason, the darkness seemed to press in on me; the trees reaching out for me; bearing down upon me in jagged, unfriendly ways.

I shook myself. This was really not the time to wuss out. I'd faced far worse things than a couple of badly lit trees.

Behind me, a twig cracked.

I abandoned the no-wussing-out policy and yelped, spinning round to look at the area where the sound had issued.

To find that there was nothing there.

I let go a shaky breath and turned around again, abandoning stealth and marching through the trees; batting aside low hanging branches and spindly leaves. With any luck something might think I was a loud, terrifying monster and back off.

I arrived at the lake Hagrid had mentioned; the moonlight glinting on the dark water that lapped gently against the muddy bank. I couldn't see any sign of the others, and found myself wondering why Hagrid had used the words 'to be wary of'.

An undistinguishable amount of distance away, a howl broke the night.

I would have loved to have been the kind of person who could shake that kind of thing off, or pass it off as an over-excited dog. But my already jumpy mind had instantly conjured visions of werewolves and other vicious animals that flooded my imagination, and for the first time since doing it, I completely regretted vandalising that corridor wall. Then I thought better. I regretted that I had got _caught_.

How badly had things gone that they had come to this? Frozen in a dark (and supposedly _forbidden_) wood in the middle of the night, my heart hammering as I waited for another howl to sound through the air; after having graffitied a wall in protest to the three evil staff members who took pleasure in torturing their students. In the words so many other teenagers had used before me, I decided firmly that, quite simply, this was _so_ not fair.

The sound of footfalls sounded to my right.

There was nothing to help it. I let out a very embarrassing scream.

Well, the scream itself was pretty good. The kind of thing you expect would follow a howling werewolf or something of a similar, scary nature. It was embarrassing because when I spun round, ready to sprint in the opposite direction after confirming I was looking at some hideous monster, I was met with a figure who was as un-werewolf-like as it was possible to be.

"Did you think I was a Wrackspurt, Meg?" Luna asked curiously, "They're not that scary, you know."

"Speak for yourself." I muttered, wondering how much dignity I would lose if I just fainted there and then. I decided against it. No need to reinforce how stupid I was.

There was a loud crashing through the trees, which actually failed to scare me. I didn't think my heart could thump any harder, anyway.

Hagrid lumbered into sight, Neville and Ginny beside him; pink cheeked and breathless from running.

"Who screamed?" Hagrid asked, brandishing the crossbow, Fang barking excitedly now. I decided it was time to call off our friendship if he got that excited about the possibility of me being attacked.

"That would be Meg," Luna said happily, gesturing towards me with Wolfsbane-laden hands, "She thought I was a Wrackspurt."

"A wha-"

"I thought she was a werewolf, if we're being totally honest." I corrected, not wanting to look a complete idiot. At least here, I settled for being a minor idiot.

"Did any of you manage to get any Wolfsbane?" Hagrid asked worriedly, whilst Ginny gave a loud cough that sounded far too near a laugh for my taste.

"I got loads!" Luna said happily, "And I picked some Geniveisian Geraniums too. They're good for warding off Flikledips."

"There's no such thing as Geni-" Neville began, but Hagrid interrupted him.

"Then I'm calling your detentions short. C'mon, we'll go back up to the castle."

As this was the best news I had had all night, I was pretty quick in obeying.

We traipsed back through the undergrowth; and even though Ginny was still trying not to laugh about my mistaking Luna for a savage monster, I could sense an air of unease was beginning to ripple through the company. After all, it was surely a little too easy for us to really stumble across a werewolf out here.

I didn't hang around long once we had got out of the shadow of danger that the trees presented; lingering only long enough to say a short goodnight before legging it up through the grounds towards the castle; my mind still a little too vivid with images of Dementors and other things watching me go.

As a result, I was a little breathless and flustered when I slid inside the Entrance Hall, leaning momentarily against one of the unlit stone torches to compose myself. Honestly, an hour in the Forbidden Forest and I was a wreck. It was embarrassing.

When I finally deemed myself calm enough to begin the walk to Ravenclaw tower, I had got about five steps before someone coughed lightly.

If it was physically possible to literally jump out your skin, I'm sure I could have managed it.

"Oh, holy-"

"Shut _up_."

A sharp voice cut across my alarmed exclamation, and through the shadowed gloom I saw a figure stepping out from where they had been leaning against a wall. I felt pretty sure that if I had cared to light my wand and shine it in their face, I would have drunk in the sight of someone with blonde hair and grey eyes that I had developed a definitely unhealthy obsession with.

"You're a little jumpy, Forester." Malfoy's voice said, sounding ridiculously amused. I was glad of the darkness. It hid the childlike scowl that was covering my face.

"Were you..." I trailed off as the thought suddenly struck me as stupid, and I busied myself with lighting my wand to hide half completed question. Malfoy, however, had noticed my hesitation. As my wand flared to life; illuminating his normally drawn, troubled expression, I noticed he was looking at me with an unusual light of interest in his eyes.

"Was I what?"

"Waiting for me?" I finished quietly, hating myself for asking it. Why did I say that? It was stupid and made no sense at all. And it sounded a little too eager for my taste.

"Maybe." He replied, looking amused.

For some reason, this comment annoyed me.

"Wow, you're certainly one for mystique and inscrutability," I said, rolling my eyes, "I'm going to lie awake all night long pondering that one."

"I'm glad to hear it."

I started heading in the direction of the staircase, and wasn't particularly amused, or surprised, when he followed me; sticking to his annoying habit of overtaking me, owing to his advantage in height. Maybe someday I should just double back and see if he ever noticed.

"So are you going to be a Ravenclaw now?" I asked mockingly, sliding my hand up the stair rail as we headed up the stairs, "It's a lot less green that what you're used to, you know."

"So I've heard." He replied shortly, playing with the sleeve on his left forearm, "So you've actually managed to get into your common room then?"

"Hmm?"

"I was under the impression that you told me you had to pass a logic test to get in." He flashed me the ghost of a smirk,

"Oh. _Humour_. How wonderful."

"That was funny, Forester."

"I think you'll find you and funniness aren't quite compatible, _Malfoy_."

We were climbing the second floor staircase now, the portraits watching us lazily through half closed eyes. A few gave me knowing stares that made me fairly sure the two portraits who had witnessed my rule breaking had spread the word.

"Given that your idea of funniness is laughing at horrendous jokes, I'm not sure I take your word for it." Malfoy was saying, his hand still on his arm.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I suddenly asked sharply.

"Doing what?" He asked blankly,

"Touching your left arm," I persisted, glad to finally have a reason to be annoyed about something after his 'maybe' comment, "You've been doing it a while."

"Oh." He dropped his hand instantly, and, following a hunch that seized me from nowhere, I grabbed his left arm.

"Meg." He said softly, and, as usual, ignoring him, I pushed up the sleeve of his jumper; revealing the pale skin underneath.

Except his warm flesh was marred with something I should have known would be there, but for some reason it had never crossed my mind.

On the inside of his forearm was a leering skull; coloured a violent black that contrasted absurdly with his skin. A snake protruded from its gaping mouth, twisting and curling around; ruining the arm that lay beneath it.

I stared at it blankly, words failing me. I could feel Malfoy's eyes on me; watching me urgently.

"Can you tell me something?" I finally asked in a voice that didn't sound like mine. When he spoke, Draco's voice was soft, as if he was expecting me to run away at any second. I felt like I might too.

"Yes."

"At the beginning of last year, when..." I trailed off, but I think he knew what I meant. When he had been set the task; that task that had ruined everything, that I hated now more than anything. "You wanted to do it?"

He looked straight at me; those grey eyes more belonging to a ghost than ever; and I saw with a small leap of terror that he was going to tell the truth.

He nodded.

I let out a shaky breath and found I was still holding his arm, clinging to it so hard my fingers were white. I hastily released him, hating the way my voice wobbled slightly when I spoke again,

"What changed your mind?"

"A mixture of things." He whispered. "But you must know."

"Tell me." The words tumbled out of me a lot louder than I intended, but I didn't hear the tuts of disapproval from the paintings behind us, entirely focused on Malfoy's face. A small, humourless smile flittered onto his face as he spoke.

"You."

"Funny." I said in a croaky voice, "What was the real reason?"

"It wasn't a joke, Forester. Apparently I can't make jokes, remember? But you changed my mind the minute you made it your business. Which was quite irritating, by the way." He looked down at me, and the small light of humour died as he became serious once more, "It was scary how simple you made everything seem."

"And yet you didn't listen." I said weakly, looking away from his face to stare at the staircases around us, not really focusing in on them.

"Things got complicated."

"So complicated that you caused the death of somebody?"

Malfoy flinched as if I had hit him, and the confused tangle of feeling in my chest blossomed back into being. Here were the things I wanted to say over summer, but didn't. How could I say them now, when he was looking so pathetic and lost? I really needed something not too heavy in this vicinity to kick. It didn't look like anything was coming to my aid.

"You hate me," He said, his tones growing angry, "I get it. But maybe you should stop and think about things from my point of view, instead of your righteous, never-wrong mind."

"I tried that." I retorted waspishly, the sarcasm he was using not helping my rising resentment, "And I'm still failing to see-"

"This summer, I watched two people get _murdered_." He shot angrily, his voice wavering with fury,

"And let me guess?" I snapped, not thinking, "You sat there and did nothing?"

He froze at that, and I immediately wished I hadn't said it. Girls with their words could be mean, I concluded, trying to push down the immense feeling of guilt squirming inside me. Maybe I should just hit him and get it over with, like boys did.

"If that's how you feel," Malfoy said, and for the first time in a while, I saw his lips lift in an almost snarl-like sneer that sent a pang of despair through me, "I'll just leave you alone, shall I?"

I wish I had been less proud and apologised, or more level-headed and calmed him down. But just like him, anger and a lack of humility kind of got the better of me.

"Fine by me!" I exclaimed, "Go and irritate someone else with all your moping."

He turned to stalk away before I did, and something in the way he had barely left me to get the words out made a sorrow I wouldn't have associated with him fill my chest. My legs burned to run after him, my tongue wanting to speak words that would fix what I had done, but stubborn pride made me turn on my heel and head towards Ravenclaw Tower, storming with the things Malfoy had done so I could justify my words to him just now. Even though in some way he had deserved it, their long overdue delivery and the look on his face as I had said them didn't really improve my mood.

I then realised how much I had been enjoying the tentative renewal of Malfoy and I's relationship this year. It was like the things that had taken place had been hidden beneath the surface, neither of us thinking of them. But, unfortunately, that didn't mean they weren't there.

I had long since given up trying to riddle this kind of thing out. It was like walking in circles; circles that made me feel no happier, or better about my situation.

I fell into bed once I had made it to the common room (after with a surprisingly easy question from the eagle. I doubt it had been from sympathy, but the pouty expression on my face may have helped) without changing, or bothering to pull the duvet up around me. I stared at the ceiling; taking in the oak beams that stretched around the dormitory and realised I wasn't the least bit tired.

I was left to mull the night over in my head whilst I waited for my eyes to grow tired. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see Malfoy's face as I snapped at him, and the plunge of regret in my stomach each time I saw it was hard to ignore.

I therefore concluded, that amongst werewolves, falling outs and the horrible emotions alight in my heart, that this evening hadn't been one of my favourites.

I was back in the nightmare of summer; with my mind reeling with hatred I wasn't too sure where to direct, and anger at the way things had turned out.

And I didn't like it one bit.


	11. Chapter 11

**Again update failure...thank you all for being so patient! Again a longer chapter in a hopeful attempt to make up for it :3**

**Also I'm going to Spain this Thursday (woop) so I'm going to be even slower at updating the next chapter- I'm so sorry!**

**But thank you for the reviews people! Hope you like the update :)**

**Wherein I fix stuff and break stuff. In that order.**

As the days passed by, they grew shorter and darker; scurrying along like the grey clouds that seemed to be threatening snow already; the little sunlight that managed to peak through the grey sky always accompanied with the smoky smell of bonfires coming down by Hagrid's Hut, where the orange and red hues of autumnal leaves in the Forbidden Forest made it seem like the grounds were on fire.

It was coming up for the end of October, which brought with it the promise of Halloween. At least, it did in the old days. Now everyday felt like a really bad version of Halloween, that was missing the actual fun and that ill feeling from too many sweets.

I woke up the morning after that fight with Malfoy, feeling dejected, and took a while to wake up enough so as to remember why.

The recollection of what had been said made me groan, shifting over in bed and burying my face in the pillow; having absolutely no motivation to get out of bed.

Sampson gave a hoot from the end of my bed where he had a habit of perching sometimes, and I waited for one of the other girls to give a grunt of irritation.

As it didn't happen, I assumed I was late; and everyone was already downstairs. And I couldn't have cared less.

I wished I could take back the things I had said last night, or at least have said them in an environment where they would have been more in place. Like if he'd sent a really slamming insult at me first. The thing was, he hadn't, and now there was an ache in my chest that was almost unbearable.

I pressed my eyelids against the pillow, trying to justify myself; ignoring the fact that I had to in the first place.

I had just seen that mark on his arm, I thought savagely, anyone would freak out over that. It wasn't like he hadn't made mistakes too. In fact, he had made far more significant ones than I had.

"We're both idiots." I concluded to my pillow.

I stayed there for at least another ten minutes, until I decided that I should probably haul myself out of bed, perhaps I would learn something in a class today. But I wasn't pinning too much hope on it.

Once I was actually ready and had shuffled down to the Great Hall, I saw that breakfast had long since ended; the four great tables empty of any food. My stomach grumbled ill manneredly at this. It took me a while to remember what lesson I was supposed to be going to now.

When I remembered, my mood didn't improve one tiny bit.

I stomped up the stairs to Divination, ignoring the fact that it was ten times better than an hour of Dark Arts or Muggle Studies, and instead picturing all the times I had fallen asleep out of sheer boredom in that stifling classroom. I could only thank that I had already missed an impressive amount of the lesson.

The corridor leading to the classroom was as stuffy and hot as ever; the thick cloud of incense descending on my head and instantly making me woozy. I glowered at the particles of dust illuminated in the few shafts of sunlight that had managed to escape the heavy, draping curtains that covered the windows. I could hear the faint murmur of tired voices, probably trying to decipher the mush at the bottom of their teacups or the lines of their palms.

I spied Terry's table before I entered the classroom, and made a face at the sight that he had bagged one by the window, irritatingly far away. Arranging my face into the picture of innocence, I surreptitiously dropped my bag behind a large pile of cushions, and decidedly ambled towards Terry at a leisurely pace, assuming the look of someone who had been here the whole lesson.

"What are you doing, my dear?" Professor Trelawney asked, seeing that I was the only person standing up, "Do you need something?"

"Oh, just looking for another textbook." I replied quickly, "Our copy had tea stains on."

After she had provided me with another copy of _Unfogging the Future_, without the slightest trace of suspicion, I marched over to Terry, a grin of delight on my face.

"I am a genius." I announced, setting myself down on his other side and sending a quick glance at the tarot cards he had spread out before him.

Terry flicked me a look over the top of the textbook, and raised an eyebrow,

"Good morning to you too," He commented, "Where were you at breakfast?"

"Overslept." I replied airily, making a dismissive gesture and accidentally letting my gaze brush Malfoy's. We both froze, my eyes stuck on his, as if waiting for him to move. But he stared wordlessly back; the look of coldness in his eyes a little staggering. I could feel I wasn't replicating it, and hastily dropped my gaze, an unexplainable surge of hurt flaring in my heart.

"You were back late," Terry commented, apparently not having noticed anything unusual, "How was the forest?"

"Dark and spooky." I said quickly, glad of a distraction and turning my attention to the tarot cards on the table, "I may have mistaken Luna for a werewolf. But that's another story. So how are you going to die this time?"

"Actually, I'm having a rather fortuitous lifetime today," Terry said, rolling his eyes. To say that Divination wielded inconsistent results was an understatement. One group of tea leaves informed me I was supposed to have died three years ago, "I'm dying a violent death, but not for another ninety years."

"Good work."

I sneaked a look under my lashes in Malfoy's direction again. He seemed pretty absorbed in staring at his tarot cards, but I'm pretty sure I didn't miss the glazed look in his eyes. As I watched, his eyes flicked upwards to look absent-mindedly at one of the many crystal balls scattering the cluttered shelves in the room, studying it lazily. I wondered idly if he was thinking about the time when I had knocked one on his head. By accident.

It felt kind of painful to watch him after the things we had said last night, or rather, the things _I_ had said. It felt like I was stuck in a loop with him, in a constant repetition of hesitant friendship and terrible fall outs. This time, I felt I had gone way too far.

The lesson didn't last particularly long, given that I had missed a considerable amount of it. The moment Professor Trelawney told us she would see us next week (and did the usual thing of freaking someone out by saying they would be ill and therefore miss the lesson) I hurried for the door; heading straight to where my bag lay in a rather forlorn heap on the floor.

Scooping it up, I crashed headlong into Seamus, who was evidently trying to exit the classroom as quickly as he could.

"Sorry!" He grinned, not looking the least bit so. Glancing around quickly to check nobody was listening, he leaned towards me, lowering his voice,

"Neville says check your coins soon." He muttered, "There's a meeting coming up."

"Well," I replied, feeling a little irritated, "After the last idea went so well, why not?" Seamus didn't appear to have anything to say to this, and simply patted my back in what I decided was a mockingly consoling way, and ran to join the group of other Gryffindors hurrying from the classroom.

"Move, Mudblood."

I didn't have to turn round to know that Pansy was standing right behind me, but I decided I wanted to see who she was with before I replied.

I shouldn't have been surprised that Malfoy was standing there, but it did little to make me happy.

"I'm not so sure you know what that word means," I said, fixing my gaze on Pansy, determinedly ignoring the blonde figure to her right, "But then, I guess you don't know what many words mean, really."

Pansy flushed at the weak insult, and scowled heavily,

"You're not as clever as you think you are, Forester." She sneered, and I cut her off, spying Terry heading cautiously over; looking a little wary. I would have thought he would be used to this kind of thing by now,

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you'd be able to beat me up if we ever had a wizard's duel in the middle of the night or something,"

For some reason, a small smile tugged at Malfoy's mouth at these words, as if he were remembering something nice. I swallowed curiosity and remembered I wasn't supposed to be looking at him. I turned back to Pansy,

"You're more brawn if you know what I mean."

In fairness, Pansy had chosen a really bad time to make that blood-status joke. She wasn't brawny at all, and I was banking on the fact that she knew that, but considering she suddenly looked torn between fury and tears, I figured I'd hit a sensitive spot. I sighed inwardly, bracing myself for the fireworks. Or waterworks.

"You're sure you're not covering up for your own insecurities, Forester?" Malfoy said harshly, and I looked at him blankly, not having expected an input from him to this conversation. It wasn't so much his words that disarmed me, but it was a mixture between the cold look in his eyes, and the fact that he had just defended Pansy in front of me. Any regret at the insult I had hurled at her vanished instantly as her face turned once more into its smug expression. And boy, did I want to slap it off.

Either way, I found that I had nothing to say to this, my brain suddenly vacant of any possible retort. I found myself looking into Malfoy's eyes, hoping to see something, anything there that wasn't cold anger or dislike.

I didn't have much luck.

In the end, Terry saved me. Coming over and grabbing my arm, he led me out the classroom, not even sparing a contemptuous glance towards the Slytherins. I wish I knew how he managed to restrain himself from saying anything to them. It was something I'd been failing miserably at for seven years.

"Thanks." I muttered, not wanting to go into the details of what had just happened. I was still trying to work that bit out.

"Are you ok, Meg?" He asked, worry etched blatantly on his face. I wondered what he was seeing as he looked at my face. I hastily arranged it into a grin that I hoped didn't look too false,

"Excellent." I said breezily, pushing past a few sixth years, who looked at me darkly. I swear the younger years were getting taller, "I mean, I suddenly had a scary lack of ready insults, but apart from that I'm great."

A cold draft met us as we turned down a more spacious corridor and I shivered. Winter was moving in fast now; foreboding and ominous as sunlight became grey and sparse. As we drew nearer the lower floors, the scent of cooking pumpkins began to radiate from the direction of the kitchens, and I found myself surprised; my mind thrown back to previous years when the castle had been full of the very same smell.

"It's weird." Terry mused, seeming to read my mind as we headed down towards the first floor for Transfiguration class, "How some parts of this place have stayed unchangingly the same."

"Like angsty and irritating Slytherins." I agreed, my mind still back in Divination. Terry didn't reply to this, and I got the feeling he was being a little more deep than I was.

We met with Antony and Padma outside the Transfiguration classroom, and finally recollecting what had taken place before Pansy and Malfoy had shown up, I quickly relayed Seamus' message in an undertone. I could see the excited glints light up in Antony and Padma's eyes, and felt that I wasn't really sharing this feeling. Naturally, Terry looked worried. I wondered what had happened to the universe now I was siding with him.

Before any of us could express any more opinions on the fact the DA would be meeting again soon, Professor McGonagall opened the door to the classroom; pushing her glasses up her nose and immediately instilling silence in that way that only she could. I guess Snape could do it too, except there was a lot of hate radiating around when he was teaching.

I hadn't really had the opportunity to thank Professor McGonagall for what she did that night I had had detention with Alecto Carrow. In fact, neither of them had really mentioned it. Something told me it was far from over, and the fact Professor McGonagall had interrupted Alecto told me the Death Eater had more motivation to go after me. But I was feeling fairly content that for the time being, things couldn't get too bad. But I made sure I was touching wood whenever I thought that.

The lesson passed with me a little too distracted by the look Malfoy had given me as he had stood at Pansy's side. He was angry with me, I got that, but the fact that he had defended her like that made me certain just how much I had hurt his feelings the other night. Usually he was happy to look on at our ridiculous arguments, and I hadn't blamed him in the slightest.

For some reason, the image of him and Pansy floated into my head in a split second, and a sudden rush of alarm shot through me, ending in me snapping the quill I was half-taking notes with. That had been pretty surprising.

Break time came with the end of the lesson, and Terry, Antony, Padma and I were heading over towards the Clock Tower Courtyard, where most of the school seemed to drift, despite the cold weather. Antony was busy debating on asking one of the teachers if Quidditch could be resumed, which I was finding morbidly amusing.

"Yeah, that's a fabulous idea," I snorted, and Padma giggled, despite the fact I was mocking her boyfriend, "Let's all go and see Snape now, he's going to love th-"

I trailed off as I looked down a corridor branching off towards a courtyard; leaves scattered on the floor from the chilly breeze flooding in through the glassless windows. I hadn't really been seeing it as I was speaking, but my attention had suddenly been caught by the tall figure walking alone away from us. Of course, there was only one person it could be; that uniquely pale hair, and that walk that had once been a swagger, and yet was now the walk of someone who wanted to be left alone; shoulders hunched and head bowed.

I was speaking before my brain had fully caught up with me.

"You three go ahead. I left something in the classroom."

Although throwing off any curious glances by making to go back in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, I went as slowly as I could; flicking glances over my shoulder until Terry and Antony had vanished from sight.

Then, scrambling through the crowds and fervently wishing I wasn't too late, I ran back down the corridor Malfoy had been heading down, a wash of relief flowing through me as I saw he was still there, hands in the pockets of his robes as he walked, seemingly oblivious to the hurried footsteps heading his way.

"Can we talk?" I asked desperately, grating to a halt beside him and taking in the surprise and intense coldness that took over his face in about five seconds. I was mildly impressed he could recognise me, and scowl, that quickly.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Forester?" He jeered, "Like some meeting that only honourable people who have never done anything wrong can go to?"

"I got thrown out after melting my eighth cauldron yesterday." I countered before I could stop myself.

"_Bye_."

"Malfoy, wait!"

I don't think either of us missed the urgency in my voice, and I felt myself blushing as he hesitated, turning round to look at me with a guarded expression in his eyes. He didn't speak, and I realised I was going to have to say something pretty monumental if I was going to set this right. Because, I really, really wanted to. So I took a deep breath and swallowed my pride.

"I'm sorry." I said clearly, "I'm really sorry. What I said was harsh. I mean, it was probably kind of justified if I had said it a few months ago, and I know I don't know anything about what goes on in your life, and I speak without thinking and all that, but I am really-"

"You can stop talking now." He said in the same short tone, but I thought I saw the cold look in his eyes thaw somewhat.

"But I'm good at talking," I said, pretending to pout, "And it annoys you. It's a win win."

Malfoy ignored the attempted humour, and started looking at me as I were under examination.

"What?" I asked slightly defensively, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He shrugged,

"You just can't seem to be able to not talk to me for long." He said, and there was something in the way he said it, with the tiniest hint of a smile around his lips, that made my heart lurch. I thought back to all the moments where I laughed this kind of thing off, or got offended. This time, I decided to get a thought off my chest that had been plaguing me for a while.

"It doesn't seem like I'm able to feel indifferent where you're concerned."

I realised that put more of my feelings on the line than I had considered, and I fumbled for something else to cover that up,

"But I'm sorry," I finally mumbled, realising this wasn't really making my comment any better, "For the things I said."

Malfoy took a step closer to me, almost leaning downwards so he could look into my averted gaze,

"They weren't without reason, you know, Forester." He said softly, as if he was consoling me, and I had to say it worked.

Something told me that agreeing outright to this wasn't going to exactly get me anywhere. But I knew that my accusations had come from somewhere, however harshly they had been voiced. At the same time the things he said about me probably held some ground. But that was another kettle of fish.

"Well," I said uncertainly, looking up at his face and wondering what he was thinking, "I just...wanted to say...what I said."

Eloquent, I know. But there was a look in his eyes that was a little disarming.

"I need to go." I finally whispered, and a flicker of some unrecognisable emotion passed across his face,

"I suppose you do," He said in a quiet tone, still looking at me in that way that was half-guarded, half-studying. There was something in it that suddenly made me very self-conscious of where to put my arms, or what to do with my expression.

I settled for legging it, yet not quite as literally as my brain was urging me. I didn't know if Draco was just pulling my leg, but he was certainly doing very well in confusing me beyond the realms of possibility. And something told me he wasn't teasing.

Whatever that weird, observant look of his had been, I felt so incredibly happy that I had righted things where he was concerned that not even a typically horrid hour in Muggle Studies could get me down. It was like a cloud had been lifted from my head, and despite the fact that I still had quite a few opinions where he was concerned, everything just felt infinitely better.

Any concern I had been feeling earlier melted away as Terry showed me the DA coin that was now blazing hot. I don't think anyone had been surprised when Terry had remodelled the system, making Neville's coin the master coin with a complex charm that none of us had understood when he had tried explaining it. In light of the fact that Malfoy and I were on speaking terms once more, I was eager to get to the meeting set for that night; as everything just seemed a hell of a lot more fun.

Unfortunately that feeling didn't spread as far as History of Magic homework, and finding myself crammed into the library with Antony, Padma and Terry later that afternoon for one of our free periods ended up severely testing my renewed mood.

Given that the disapproving stares Terry was capable of giving was the only reason I was working, the moment he had gone to hunt down a few library books, I abandoned the pretence of writing down utter rubbish on Goblin wars; and was now showing Antony how to make an origami Hippogriff. I wish I could say it was going well, but creativity had never been a strong point for me.

"Padma reckons Luna knows the next password for _Potterwatch_," Antony said in a low tone, prodding the corners of the folds of paper I was trying to align, ignorant of my huffing as he ruined my progress, "I don't suppose you have a radio on you?"

"Yeah," I snorted, smarting from the crushed paper before me, "It's so small you can't see it. You want to borrow it?"

"Perhaps if you fold it outwards-"

"It's a Hippogriff. You just can't appreciate art-"

"Great work, you guys."

It appeared Terry had arrived, but it seemed more like a huge pile of books had suddenly found some arms and a pair of legs to carry them around.

He dumped the books down on the table with a loud bang, and flicked me an amused glance as I held the Hippogriff up to the candlelight, examining it in the hoped it would look a little better.

"You're supposed to be writing a foot long essay for Professor Binns, you know." He reminded me, glancing at the parchment before me that so far consisted of an introduction Terry had written for me, and a few ink blobs from where I had dropped my quill once or twice.

I set down the Hippogriff, that in total honestly looked like it had recently been ploughed down by several Quidditch players, or that horse-drawn carriage of Beauxbatons.

"This is more fun." I replied with a mischievous grin. "Is there a radio around here?"

"This is a library," Terry said blankly, looking so affronted at the suggestion there might be noise here that I finally concentrated on my essay, in an attempt not to start laughing.

We headed up to the Room of Requirement as soon as I had finished my essay. As a result, we were really quite late.

We were met with an assortment of ugly, steel dummies when we finally arrived; scattered through the large room; reflected a hundred times in the mirrors that adorned the walls. Flashes of red light where flying through the air, accompanied by hoarse shouting, and I saw enough to get the idea that we were probably practising the a more assailing spell tonight.

Neville waved a greeting just as Ginny yelled '_Reducto_!' and the dummy she had been aiming at disintegrated, tumbling to the floor in a delicate pile. I stared. If I had known she could do that, maybe I wouldn't have been so back-chatty around her. Maybe.

I turned to Terry and gave a weak smile,

"How much would you have to be paid for me to practise that spell on you?"

Apparently a lot, as he hurried away pretty sharpish to find a dummy nobody was using.

I was a little distracted as I selected a rather battered looking mannequin to aim at, my thoughts flittering back to that corridor, to the look in Malfoy's eyes as he studied me, as if I were some kind of mystery he was solving. Maybe that's what it was. I doubted I was that mysterious, though. It wasn't like I ever let my opinions go unvoiced. Maybe he found that annoying. _Maybe_ the whole majority of the school found that annoying.

A flash of red light shot past my mannequin, the light unexpectedly sending my mind reeling back to the night Malfoy had let the Death Eaters into the school. I shuddered, hastily yanking my thoughts back to the present and eyeing the steel figure before me.

"_Reducto_!"

The dummy toppled to the floor and broke.

I suppose 'smashed' would have been a more appropriate word, and it wasn't anywhere near as elegant as Ginny's hex had been. The dummy shattered and cracked into thousands of pieces, skittering over the floor and seeming to shake the floor with the impact.

I realised I had successfully quietened the room.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" I said irritably, seeing the raised eyebrows. I had thought this was a valid point, but apparently that wasn't the aim of the spell.

After that, the most interesting thing to happen in the meeting was the group talk held at the end. Neville had brandished a slip of paper at us, which he pinned to the notice board; smoothing out the crumpled edges,

"It's a list of possible _Potterwatch_ passwords," He explained, "It's such a nightmare trying to tune in, and I thought this would make it easier."

"Can't we try now?" Seamus asked eagerly, and Neville shook his head, glancing at his watch,

"We're out of time. We've got to be more careful about this. Snape seems to be on to us."

"He's only guessing," I put in, "He doesn't have proof."

"But it's way too easy for him to get it." Antony said, rendering the breath I had used on that sentence as useless. I glowered at him.

"I suppose this means we're calling a halt on decorating the castle?" Luna asked with a sigh, "What a shame. That was _fun_."

"So much fun." I muttered, thinking about the after-effects.

"We need to let it lie for a bit," Neville advised, and I wondered when he had got so wise, "Especially after that sword fiasco. But I reckon next week is as good a time as any to try again."

"We're opting for Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks this time, right?" I asked. For some reason, judging from the snorts of laughter I created, nobody seemed to think I had been serious.

"I envy their guts." Terry said wistfully as we headed back towards Ravenclaw Tower a few minutes later. Engrossed in a bag of Bertie Bott's Beans Antony had just produced, my understanding of this statement was a little hazy,

"I beg your pardon?"

"Not their intestines," Terry sighed, seeming impatient as Antony choked on his bean, "Of their lack of nerves. They don't care if they get caught."

"I'm sure they do." Antony countered lightly, "But perhaps a little less than we do."

"It's just hard." Terry continued, and I recognised the dark look of abjection in his eyes. Malfoy wore that sometimes. Wow, I though, stuffing a bean into my mouth and grimacing at the sausage flavour. I really needed to think of someone else once in a while. "I wish I could be less worried about all of this, but I'm just-"

"Worried," I finished, swallowing the bean with a shudder and hoping the next one was better. I was rewarded with bubblegum, "And why wouldn't you be? You know what happens if the Carrows catch us."

Out of nowhere, Antony wrapped a hand around my shoulders, playfully -I hope- choking me.

"I think you're the bravest of us, Meg," He said in a voice that sounded forcibly cheerful, "You were pretty great last year during that battle. And this year, you've been gutless. Plus you just stuffed a bean that looked suspiciously like earwax flavour into your mouth."

I realised he was doing pretty much exactly what I did when someone was upset. Express an opinion in the jokiest way possible to make the atmosphere lighter. And as my heart swelled in fondness for my two friends, I realised it had definitely worked.

I was about to add to that, about it certainly took a gutless and downright amazing person to sit through Potions classes next to Malfoy for a year (because yet again, my mind had wandered to him against my will) but I was interrupted.

Out of the shadows on the corridor walls, somehow having gone unnoticed until now, Alecto Carrow stepped forwards, a contorted, ugly leer spreading across her face as she studied me in a crowing manner.

"I think you should come with me, young missy." She tittered, drawing her wand and toying with it, with her stubby hands.

"And why would I do that?" I asked instantly, ignoring how my heart was suddenly thumping in my chest, erratic with dread.

Alecto drew herself up, almost meeting my chin, her eyes glinting malevolently as she looked at me.

"I have some information about your blood status" She said, "And I think we need to talk about it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Exactly this time last year a very weird girl whose username implies that she has a strange obsession with pigeons and the number 7 went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Florida, and then scared herself as she realised it was by far the best day of her life and that was probably quite a lame thing to admit. **

**Anyways, once home, armed with a Slytherin tie and a Ravenclaw scarf (and some Bertie Bott's Beans that are still sitting next to her. Bogies were never her thing), she thought what a great idea it would be to write a mini story about a Hogwarts student and her misadventures, perhaps occasionally clashing with Draco Malfoy, because he was too awesome to leave out, especially after that 3****rd**** year hair cut. Then, because she's weird, she wrote a few paragraphs about a Ravenclaw student giving a solemn burial for a not-so-dead Pygmy Puff who had happened to have been thrown out of the Divination Tower. **

**And Meg was born.**

**That's right people, it's a Meg-iversary! I really could never have imagined how many people would enjoy the story and I know I say it all the time, but it really means a lot to me how much you like it! You're all so wonderful :') **

**Cough. **

**Sorry I was away so long- Spain was supermegafoxyawesomehot. In every sense of the word. **

**Wherein I cause unconsciousness and run to a very satisfying occurrence.**

My head reeled as I absorbed Alecto's words, replaying them in my head as if there had somehow been a mistake. Of _course_ there had been a mistake. I was fine unless they were clamping down on Half-Bloods too now. But then she'd be addressing Antony and Terry as well. This was obviously all on me.

"I'm sorry?" I finally settled for, regaining the use of my tongue after what felt like ages. Beside me, it seemed Terry and Antony were frozen in place.

"Follow me-e!" Alecto said in a sing-song voice, brandishing her wand, a look of pure maliciousness in her piggy eyes, evidently wanting to keep that dull look in panic that was surely in my eyes by not saying anything further.

For a wild, split second, I debated legging it, but then I realised that I was in a castle, surrounded by Death Eaters and Dementors. I was going nowhere.

"Meg-" Terry began, but I flicked him a quick look,

"It's fine," I said in a brazen voice, quickly assuming an indifferent expression, "See you guys in a bit."

The look in Alecto's eyes seemed to lend to the impression that I wouldn't be seeing them in a bit, but I swallowed the trepidation that was spreading through me, crushing the happiness that had been flowing after the DA meeting. The walls seemed to press in on me as I followed her down the corridor; the shadows rushing to meet my moving feet; the moon passing in rushing glimpses through the misted windows. My mind kept skipping ahead of me, images of what was going on flashing through my imagination and sending frissons of fear down my spine. What had she found out? What _could_ she have found out? I didn't understand at all, and with each second I was keeping pace behind her as she led me down stairs and across corridors, my heart was beating faster and faster, my hands growing clammy with panic.

Finally, after what felt like years of walking, with no sound but the noise of hurried footsteps and the shallow breathing of sleeping portraits on the walls, we stopped at a heavy oak door, as unassuming as the rest of the ones scattered throughout the castle (except, perhaps, the ones that refused to open on Wednesdays) spare the two stone gargoyles that flanked either side of it.

"Ooooo," One crooned as it caught sight of me peering at it, stretching its wings, "You're in trouble you are!"

"Geoff, don't be mean." The other scolded in a harsh, female voice, "You just have to say that to every student, don't you?"

"Shut your faces!" Alecto spat, leering at the two gargoyles, which immediately became lifeless once again. I snapped my attention back to her as she shoved the door open, revealing a long, wooden panelled room with a fire burning in the grate. It might have appeared warm under any other circumstances. Right now, with a Death Eater by my side; and shadows dancing around the room from the grate; aided by the undrawn curtains showing the darkness outside, it was simply imposing.

The sight of Professor Flitwick leaping out of a chair by the fire at our entering made the erratic thoughts thundering around my head settle on the simple observation that was this was probably the staff room. How I had never been dragged here before for one of my wrong doings was anyone's guess.

"What's going on here?" Flitwick squeaked, and I didn't miss the nervousness in his tone as Alecto adopted that leering simper of hers, squaring off to him as if she was about to hex him at any second. I suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the teachers. It couldn't be easy work looking after your students at the same time as looking out for yourself.

"We've found out a little somethin' about your student, didn't we?" Alecto sneered, and yet again I found myself wondering what on earth she could mean. Surely I couldn't be this clueless if there really was something?

The door opened again, and the three of us turned to meet two newcomers.

I couldn't say I was particularly thrilled to see either of them.

Amycus Carrow was the first into the room, his significant bulk seeming to block half the light issuing from the fireplace. He was looking as triumphant as his sister.

But my eyes flickered to the other figure entering the room, a tall man with matted, dark hair and tattered leather boots. It was the Snatcher from Diagon Alley, and the one that I had given cheek to on the first night back at school. The one that Terry had warned would be out to get me from then on.

Sometimes, I really hated the fact that Terry was always right.

"Tell 'er what you told me, Scabior!" Amycus tittered, elbowing his companion in the ribs, who gave a grimace, as if he would really rather not be elbowed by a blundering, sadistic Death Eater.

"You're in big trouble, sweetheart," He finally said once having reassumed a pleased expression; grinning and showing several gold teeth that glinted in the firelight.

"Define, trouble." I immediately responded, and Flitwick gave the smallest of noises, as if he was hoping, for once in my life, that I would hold my tongue. Out of nowhere, I remembered my promise to my mother. Well, I think I could conclude that that had fallen into complete pieces.

"As in you fooling the Ministry of Magic over your blood status, my dear." Scabior replied, now rivalling Amycus and Alecto in the leering war. Now and then, I really wished the people here could muster up a different expression.

My mind reeled at that, and I stood there, once again certain that I had misheard,

"Blood status?" I repeated stupidly, then shook my head defiantly, "I'm a Half-Blood! You checked when I arrived here!"

"Checked on a register that can easily be faked!" Amycus roared, making Scabior jump. He sent Amycus an unimpressed look.

"Then everyone here would be doing it." I replied waspishly, "You have no evidence I did. And I didn't, by the way."

"We have plenty of evidence!" Alecto echoed her brother in terms of volume, and I realised that if this was any other situation, it would be pretty hilarious to try and watch them outmatch each other. However, right now, I was terrified and utterly confused.

"From whom?" Professor Flitwick interjected, his high-pitched voice cutting through the deep tones of the Carrows,

"By a student here, alrigh'?" Amycus said in a self-satisfied tone, "She came to us and said this girl was a Mudblood!"

"What wonderful evidence." I put in acerbically.

"Be quiet, Miss Forester!" Professor Flitwick squeaked sharply. I was pretty taken aback; he had never been so brash before. I suppose 'before' didn't usually entail Death Eaters claiming I was faking birth records.

"I'm Half-Blood," I repeated, ignoring Flitwick and trying to stay calm. From the glint in Amycus' eyes, I was going to get nowhere in insisting on this, "My mother's a witch. It doesn't matter who my father is if she's a witch, right?"

"How do we know she didn't fake her records too, eh?" Amycus grinned, as if he had been particularly witty.

"This is ridiculous!" I exclaimed, my anger getting the better of me, "You have absolutely no evidence against my blood status. And you're not going to get any because it's not true!"

I knew I was losing control, and that only made me angrier. This was utterly absurd; and I couldn't quite believe I had actually found myself in this situation. I seemed to be thinking that a lot nowadays.

"There's only one way of doing this," Amycus said, sending me a nasty grin, "Take her to the Ministry for questioning. That's what we did for the other Mudbloods, right Scabior?"

"You mean," I corrected, unable to help myself, "Take me to a 'hearing' and then cart me off to Azkaban."

Flitwick had rushed forwards before anyone else could speak, and with an alarming speed I could never have associated with him, drew his wand and brandished it at Amycus,

"You are not taking this girl!" He exclaimed, the warning note in his voice making me back off slightly. I suddenly had a feeling things were past pointless negotiating.

I was right.

Scabior leapt forwards before anyone else moved; his wand drawn and shouting a spell before Flitwick could react.

There was a loud bang, and Flitwick was sent sprawling across the room; hitting the wall and slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had drawn my own wand,

"Now, hold on a minute!" Scabior exclaimed, darting out of the way. He was sensible; knowing my luck, this spell could land up anywhere.

Yet, before I could get a word in edgeways, however, Amycus had drawn his wand, pointed it at me a bellowed, "_Crucio!_"

The spell grazed the side of my face as I leapt aside; white hot as it bruised my skin and making me yelp in panic. For a moment my body remembered the pain I had felt the last time that spell had made contact with me, and my brain went slack with fear. I whirled around uselessly, seeing Amycus raise his wand again and unable to even gear my brain into thinking of the counterattack.

"_Protego_."

The voice caused an instant stillness to fall over the company. It didn't issue from anyone in the room, and all eyes flicked to the doorway; a spell from Alecto's wand that had been heading in my direction deflected into the ceiling; a faint shiver of dust cascading to the floor like rain; hitting the floor with a soft patter; the only noise now to be heard as we all turned to meet the owner of the voice.

Snape stood in the door; his wand drawn and face dark. I assumed it was he who had cast the shield charm, and was completely taken aback. Racking my brains, I wouldn't have blamed him for letting that curse hit me after all the cheek I had given him in lessons. Very strange, indeed.

"I do not remember authorising this." Snape said silkily, his gaze travelling slowly from my blank expression, to Amycus's frozen wand arm, to the unconscious Flitwick crumpled against the wall,

"'Cos it ain't your business, is it Snape?" Alecto rushed, her face red with anger. Snape's eyes finally settled on her, a cool look of disdain flooding his sallow features.

"I was under the impression that _I_ am in charge here, Alecto." He said slowly.

I was fairly convinced that the temperature in the room dropped several degrees as he spoke, he and Alecto each regarding one another icily.

"They were saying I had faked my family tree." I told Snape, hoping we could sort this out once and for all. For some reason the tone in my voice suddenly sounded as if I was pleading to him, something I really would rather not do. I forced a childish scowl onto my face to make me feel better about it, "And I really didn't."

"_You_ certainly aren't capable of such a feat, Miss Forester." Snape agreed, still looking at Alecto, who was quailing slightly now under his fierce expression. "I suggest we drop the matter here and now."

"But-" Alecto tried to put in, only to be silenced by another dark look. If I was in her shoes, I'd be running for the hills.

"I suggest," Snape spoke over her, his eyes still on Alecto with that fathomless expression, as she now glared petulantly right back, "That Miss Forester goes back to her dormitory. _Immediately_."

"Sir, Professor Flitwick is kind of unconsci-"

"Nothing the hospital wing cannot fix. _Go_."

He saw no more argument from me.

I dashed straight out the door, nearly running headlong into two sprinting figures, who skidded to a halt; the light spilling out the staff room revealing them as Terry and Antony.

"What happened?" Antony panted, wiping sweat of his forehead, "We ran to get McGonagall, but-"

"It's fine." I said hurriedly, overly conscious of the three Death Eaters on the other side of the threshold, "Let's go."

I made to grab Terry's arm, but I was brought to a sudden halt at the person I suddenly saw lurking against the windows to the courtyard outside, as if unenthusiastic to be a part of the commotion ahead of him.

Malfoy looked straight back at me, and something hit me that was strange about him. It took me a while to realise that it was that he looked, well, _alive. _His cheeks were flushed, as if he had been exercising, and there was a light in his eyes as he looked at me; like some kind of urgency which I failed to understand. It was not the ghost look that I had become so familiar with for the majority of our abnormal, almost-friendship. I had missed that spark in his eyes, that would usually be there if his was telling a particularly nasty joke back before our sixth year. But in our sixth year, I had seen it there on other occasions. Like when I had caught him looking at me, almost curiously, and just before we had kissed on that bridge.

Whatever the reason for it now was, I lost track of what I was doing, until Antony's hand closed around my arm, yanking me forwards,

"Get lost, Malfoy," He barked, "You've done enough tonight."

I had no idea what to say to that, and I was pulled away too quickly to look at the expression Draco's face had assumed, curiosity rapidly burning through me. What had he done?

I had certainly never seen Antony or Terry so worked up before as they almost marched me across the deserted corridors; silent and fuming like two particularly irritated shadows.

"Can we talk about what happened?" I finally asked when I couldn't bear the quiet any longer; turning down a stone walled corridor; decorated with nothing but suits of armour and fires burning in their brackets.

"Yes, but let's go quietly," Terry muttered in my ear, "We don't want to get into any more trouble by being caught out of bed."

"What happened, Meg?" Antony asked in a muted voice, his face more serious and concerned than I had ever seen it, "You're a Half-Blood!"

"I know." I replied patiently, trying to keep my voice low too. I hadn't wanted to talk about what had taken place from my point of view tonight. I wanted to know about Malfoy. "They got confused."

"Confused?" Terry repeated weakly, "They looked ready to lock you up!"

"They had a student tip off and got over-excited," I tried to finish airily, waving a hand and leaping on an attempt to turn the subject, "But where did-"

"A student tip off?" Antony repeated incredulously, "Who?"

"It doesn't matter," I replied, growing irritated, "What matters is what Ma-"

"Of course it matters!" Terry interrupted, "There's obviously someon-"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" I said loudly, abandoning the hushed discussion, "Tell me what Malfoy did!"

This outburst was met with a few seconds of surprised silence and I decided that from now on I should probably play it more subtle.

"Ok-aay." Antony finally said slowly, as if he thought this was the most stupid question to be asking ever, "Well-"

"We ran to get McGonagall," Terry took over, running a hand through his hair that was more dishevelled than I had ever seen it. He was still out of breath, "But we had no idea where she would be, and then we ran straight into Malfoy-"

"What?" I interjected sharply, then mentally scolded myself. Way to play it subtle.

"I guess he had overheard us talking 'cos he brought Snape to the staffroom." Antony said bitterly, "I can't believe after everything he's done that he would stoop even lower."

"Huh?" I realised that I wasn't being particularly eloquent this evening, but my mind was spinning, and I had the niggling, wonderful feeling that Antony had got the completely wrong end of the stick. It suddenly felt like my heart was working overtime.

"Well he wanted to get you into more trouble, didn't he?" Antony grumbled, kicking out at the foot of a suit of armour that clanked loudly. Terry seemed too worked up to berate him for the lack of sneaking, "He probably thought Snape coming along to meddle would be the best way of doing that. Still, the joke was on him, right? Snape did the exact opposite!"

I wasn't really listening, or seeing anymore. My brain was alive, replaying Malfoy's expression as he stood in the corridor, that look in his eyes as he saw me, the pink tinge to his cheeks as if he had just run somewhere very fast. I didn't know if I was being a fool, but I could only think of one reason why Malfoy had fetched Snape to that room. He had wanted to save me.

About damn time.

"I need to go." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I had fully thought them through, Terry and Antony turning to face me as if I was going crazy,

"Um, where?" Antony asked, frowning. He was still looking worked up from his anti-Malfoy rant, and the part of me that realised his anger was spawning from everything that had happened to me tonight lit with a fierce liking for him. But that part of me wasn't really in control right now.

"I just need to go and clear my head," I rushed, starting to back down the passage, "I'll meet you both in the common room!"

With that, I turned on my heel and sprinted down the corridor, ignoring the fact that Terry and Antony were probably watching me go and wondering if I had been hit with a Stunning Spell along with Professor Flitwick.

My head was pounding along with my heart as I raced through the corridors; dashing past snoozing portraits and windows glinting silver in the moonlit night. I don't think I had ever run so fast in my entire life, not even on the journey to Platform 9 and ¾. Small details flashed past me, such as the embroidery on rugs as my feet flew over them, the streak of a cat tail that failed to instil alarm into me, which it really should have. I had one destination in mind, and there was a fear in me that this was going to go wrong. I was also a little afraid of it going right.

Malfoy was where we had left him; leaning against one of the stone pillars that framed the windows. His hair looked almost white in the light, and he looked up at the sound of my slowing footsteps.

Except I didn't slow as much as I was hoping. Instead I marched straight up to him, my hair flying out behind me and my hands balled into fists.

A pucker appeared in his eyebrows as he looked at me, straightening up as I came to a halt about ten centimetres from his face, my breathing shallow and my mind utterly confused.

"What are you-" He began, but just then I took a tiny step forwards, and sent all the anger and hurt he had ever made me feel into my arm. And slapped him around the face.

I don't think he had been expecting that.

I hadn't either to be totally honest. He stumbled backwards slightly, a hand whipping up to the side of his face, which was already turning pink, making me feel a little bad. He didn't say anything, looking at me silently with those eyes of his, his expression as if he were still expecting something else, and I think I worked out what it was about two seconds before I did it.

As I stepped forwards and kissed him, I wondered how it was that he knew me so well.

But then any pensive and logical thoughts kind of died.

Over summer it felt like I had been craving something. Something I had had, a fleeting memory that had been destroyed and that my heart had then yearned for. I had thought it was for the old days; the old Hogwarts where everything was in a perfect balance, but now, I realised that hadn't been the half of it. I knew Malfoy had caused that pit of depression that summer had turned into; I had channelled so much anger at him, and at the same time at myself. I had been so angry that I had actually _liked_ him, and so unable to forgive him for not only ruining Hogwarts, but for what he had done to me.

But nothing was really that simple anymore. The lines of hate and liking had blurred, and I began to feel that they hadn't really been there in the first place.

Here, the warmth of the skin on the back of his neck making my fingertips tingle, as they skimmed the bottom of his soft hair, I realised I had been dead right when I had said I couldn't feel indifferent towards him. That swelling feeling in my heart, as if this was the only place I ever wanted to be was certainly _not_ indifference. It was weird how much I could remember from the last time I had been this close to him; that scent unique to him; the feel of his lips as they pressed against mine; his arms wrapping tightly around me; all of them overpowering and wonderfully familiar. Perhaps I had been unconsciously remembering kissing him a little too often, but right now; swept up once again, I couldn't see how thinking of anything else could have been a better use for my brain.

Unfortunately, that irritatingly compulsory need for oxygen had me pulling away sooner than I would have desired.

Our breathing still shallow, both standing there with unspoken words radiating between us, I wondered if I should say anything. Given that I usually possessed the eloquence of a Pygmy Puff, I decided on silence. Before I could have done anything anyway, Malfoy let his fingers trail down the side of my face, smoothing the hair out from my eyes, and looking at me with such an intensity that I suddenly became a little uncomfortable.

"What?" I asked, a bit weakly. In my defence, my head was still spinning.

The look didn't go away, but he shook his head slightly, a smile flittering onto his face as he kissed me again.

And I knew that, amongst the tonnes of things I had missed and craved, and the strangling hate I was feeling for this sudden dark world, there had been one other thing that made my heart feel so heavy.

It had been a yearning for those few weeks, or maybe even days, where Malfoy and I had been in a place we had never been before. Where our lips met, and the dark times looming were unacknowledged or seemed ridiculously impossible. It was that genuine smile of his, one that showed that underneath the snarky comments and mocking, he really, really liked me.

And oh man, I hadn't truly or really realised before, just how much I really, _really_ liked him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Did I say I got a Malfoy poster? Oh yeah, he's such a babe just glowering away on my wall. I would recite a few Meg lines to him, but he's brandishing a wand and looking not to be messed with. **

**I suppose that never stopped her.**

**Sorry for the slow update again- I was cruelly separated from my computer xD Sorry if there are a tonne of grammar mistakes...I have no excuse ;)**

**In which the figurative beans get spilled and I de-sword a suit of armour. **

I completely forgot how to speak as Malfoy drew away again; everything about him clouding my brain, my hands gripped tightly around his neck, as if I were hanging on for dear life. I wasn't entirely sure where this unquenchable desire for his lips was coming from, but we both seemed perfectly happy to let it run its course. If it ever finished.

"You didn't trip this time, I take it?" Malfoy whispered at last, his voice hoarse as he met my gaze, that same, fully happy smile still flickering uncertainly on his lips, as if he were afraid at any second it could vanish.

"For once," I replied breathlessly, grinning too, "This was totally and utterly on purpose. We need to go."

"What?" He looked confused at the sudden change in tone, as if I had just woken him up. I allowed a smile to grow on my face that I later realised was probably quite coquettish.

"We're standing right outside the staffroom. I don't know if you were trying to make a stand, but let's save it for later. Besides, if I had a Galleon for every time Snape has appeared round a corner-"

"You'd certainly be richer than Weasley."

I decided then and there that I would be the one to provide the jokes in the future.

The air blowing in through the outside windows was cold; but my face was burning up from everything that had just happened; my heart thrumming happily in my chest as I took Malfoy's hand, leading him down the corridor; far away from the staffroom.

"Are you getting me lost, Forester?" He breathed, the ghost of a smirk now on his face, and I realised I was now practically dragging him forwards over the flagstones.

"I will consider this evening a success if we don't incur Filch or Snape," I replied, "I'm prepared to bet one of them will materialise from nowhere."

"Should I be afraid?" He grinned, evidently not taking this quite as seriously as I was. I released his hand as we turned the corner, instead winding my arms around his neck. I smiled as he pulled me closer; his arms snaking around my waist.

"Exceptionally." I smirked.

Nobody could have convinced me this morning that in a few hours, I would have kissed Draco Malfoy; not once, but coming on for three times. It was like I had slid into some alternate reality, and hey, if that reality entailed what it was currently entailing, I didn't mind one single bit.

However, a mask had kind of settled between us as we stood there; the unsaid things determinedly remaining unsaid. I didn't want to ruin what this was, not one single bit; and it appeared he felt the same way.

"You know," I murmured, as we broke apart for air, "Considering you're the person who can make me exceptionally miserable, you can cheer me up very well." Too late, I realised I had stupidly crossed into the realm of unsaid things in the space of a second. Man, I deserved a medal. I straightened up slightly to meet his gaze, which had clouded slightly with some unknown thought. "How does that work?" I finished weakly.

Draco didn't answer immediately, and after studying my expression; a frown rumpling the skin between his eyebrows, he said,

"I'm not sure I like that I made you miserable at all."

Time to move the conversation away from any of this, I thought desperately. I really couldn't handle it now; I didn't want to see that consternating look in his eyes. I suppose it was weak, but it would mar, if not destroy everything that had taken place if we seriously started talking about everything that had happened to us.

So, like a true coward, I dropped the subject, and wrapped my arms more tightly around him, resting my head against his chest and instead listening to the rhythmic beating of his chest to drown out the doubts and fretfulness that had clouded my head. The pulsing of blood through his body was like a soothing mantra; and as I felt the warmth of his skin; his hands gently tangled in my hair, no sound to be heard but our breathing, I let all the misgivings and fears dissipate. What mattered was that I was here, right now; Malfoy's arms around me, after what felt like years of missing something, and having no idea what it was.

I caught myself smiling.

Given that my getaway from Terry and Antony had involved a whole 'I've forgotten something' story, that would probably mean one of them would be wondering where I had got to; I found myself very reluctantly heading back towards Ravenclaw Tower after far too short a time standing in that corridor. Malfoy hadn't exactly helped with my unwilling and hesitant thought that I should probably go. I arrived at the eagle knocker an hour after I'd first said that I should leave. I took that to mean that neither of us had much resistance, and I completely failed to care.

"Another late night?" The eagle knocker commented when it saw me approaching, its eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Why are you smiling so much?"

"You're presence just fills me with unexplainable joy," I told it with a yawn, "So since I was so nice just now, you're going to just open, right?"

"I-"

"Your beak twitched in a smile! I saw it! You really are letting me through without a riddle, aren't you?"

"N-"

"That's so sweet of you! Everyone says you're such an irritating lump of metal, but I didn't believe it for a second!"

"You-"

"Come on then. It's not polite to keep a lady waiting."

The eagle was looking at me despairingly, and I looked straight back, forcing the happily expectant look on my face to stay there. Perhaps if I left it three more seconds...

With an inaudible huff and a great deal of muttering, the door swung open.

"I...what?" I blinked, having expected to have waited three seconds for a sarcastic dismissal, "Really?"

"Just _go in_."

Deciding, for the first time, that I was not going to argue with it, I trotted through the door; unable to restrain the snigger building in my throat. I think I may have just created history.

The common room was deserted except for Terry; slumped over a book at the table by one of the large windows. I crept over, a wicked smile on my face, and with one swift movement, slammed a fist on the table before him. He gave a yelp and leapt upwards.

"I'm back!" I giggled in a hushed voice, as he tried not to look as if he had nearly had a heart attack.

"Thanks for letting me know." He croaked grumpily, getting to his feet and gathering the book in his arms, "I take it I can go to bed now?"

"You didn't have to wait,"

"I...wanted to."

A little overcome with the night's proceedings, happiness bubbled in my chest and I threw my arms around him in a massive, extremely ungainly hug.

"Ow-Meg...the book is poking into my ribs."

"Rubbish. Stop being such a baby."

When I finally released him, he hobbled away up the stairs, muttering under his breath in an apparently bad mood. Somehow, it seemed his heart wasn't really in it.

I hung backwards; my gaze drifting to the windows looking out over the hills. Just outside was a small stone balcony; barely over a metre wide and made of a smooth grey stone that matched the walls inside that were hidden beneath rich blue tapestries.

The night air was as cool as it had been in that corridor with Malfoy, and as I slipped out onto the balcony I breathed in heavily, the smile still plastered rather inanely to my face. The last time I had felt like this had been on the bridge.

A faint recollection stirred my mind, and almost of its own accord, my hand drifted to the pockets of my robes, and I drew my wand.

"_Expecto Patronum_." I whispered after a moment of silence.

Almost as if it knew there was no real cause for it being called into existence, the bear cub serenely drifted into being; the pearly glow it emitted sending the surroundings of the castle's turrets and roof tiles into elegant relief. I watched it soar out towards the rolling mountains that tumbled away into the darkness; the smile on my face widening as I leant forwards to rest my elbows on the balustrade. There was something so beautiful about it that made my heart swell.

Within a few moments, it was gone, but the image of the pale light cutting through the night stayed in my mind's eye until I finally got to sleep hours later.

"For the last time, Meg, my Pygmy Puff did _not_ give you a cold."

It was breakfast time; the winter months proclaiming that we had little need for daylight at this time of morning. Outside; the thin light of day had just broken the sky, but the hall was still quite dark; the students yawning and rather subdued. The cautious looks to the top table were still there; and increasing with every black story to appear in the _Daily Prophet_, however well it was hidden in the propaganda claiming that all was well.

Jade stood before me, hands on hips, Fitzwilliam on her shoulder, who was looking (I'm pretty sure) at me.

"Well, I woke up this morning," I said, my throat tingling even as I formed this small sentence, "And felt like death. Then your Pygmy Puff was sleeping beside me. How did it get through a reinforced wooden door anyway?"

"It was obviously left ajar."

"It wasn't." I informed sideways to Terry, who replied with a very large and very potent yawn.

"I came over here to tell you that mum wants you to send her a Christmas list," Jade said, still looking unimpressed, "Now I'm going to rejoin sane people who aren't convinced Pygmy Puffs are out to get them."

"She's more dramatic than I am." I commented, then sneezed loudly. The sharp noise caused several people to jump, and to my surprise, turn to scowl at me.

Although I had been in the hall for all of ten minutes, it was possible to see the scales tip ever more heavily towards the gloom that Carrows were intent on sinking Hogwarts with. If possible, they both seemed worse than ever.

Terry had greeted me this morning with the news that a first year had been cursed for too loudly criticising the _Daily Prophet_. Of course any onlookers had been too scared to interfere, which had made me furious. What had the Sorting Hat said at the beginning of term? We all needed to work together. Letting stuff like this happen was just going to make matter worse. I just needed to work out a way that meant less people were getting hurt, without targeting myself any more than I already had. For example, right now, I felt like I was wearing a blindingly garish bullseye.

The post arrived with Antony and Padma; who seemed to notice the subdued tone of the hall instantly; their shoulders sagging and voices lowering as they settled down next to us.

I caused uproar yet again when Sampson hurtled straight into the milk jug with a large screech. Glares yet again were sent my way. Maybe they were blaming me for the sudden increase in hostility in the castle. After all, news did travel fast round here.

"Good morning, Sampson." I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly and glancing down at him.

I suddenly had the horrible sensation like I had missed a few stairs as I looked at him properly.

True, crashing into various parts of the breakfast table was a common habit of his; and his arrival usually coincided with the spilling of orange juice, cereal bowls, and one particularly embarrassing time, the entire contents of a teapot. But he was always up on his feet again in no time; a loud and happy squawk deafening the people nearby.

Now, he didn't get up. I took in his slow moving form in horror, for the first time seeing how oddly he was holding his wings; one of his legs stuck out at an odd angle; his feathers splayed and shaking from the tremors his body was emitting.

"Something's wrong with him!" I tried to exclaim, but my voice caught slightly, horror welling in me like sickness, "What happened?" I scooped up the little owl in my hands; and he gave a squawk of protest, wriggling uselessly, "What's wrong with him, Terry?"

But Terry, who so often knew the answer to everything, was at a loss to say why Sampson was flittering about in my hands, his large orange eyes dull and barely remaining open. I turned panicked eyes to Antony, who turned his attention from Padma; his toast slipping from his grip as he saw my shocked expression,

"Take him to Hagrid, Meg," He rushed, getting to his feet, "We'll come too."

But I had hurried off long before they could disentangle themselves from the benches. Sampson suddenly felt incredibly fragile encased in my grasp; small successions of feeble hoots emitting from his beak. I knew I joked about him and was always being rude about his lack of elegance or size, but I had grown to love the little owl unremittingly. But I needed to stop that strangling feeling of panic closing off my windpipe and making my eyes burn with that all too familiar sting of brewing tears. He was going to be ok. He _was_ going to be ok.

"You're going to be fine." I told him. Sampson sent me a bleary look, that still seemed to look patronising in a of-_course_-I-am kind of way.

The crisp morning air was freezing, and I ran down towards Hagrid's Hut, shivering uncontrollably; my cloak having been completely forgotten back at the Ravenclaw table. I couldn't have cared less.

Hagrid answered the door after the sixth succession of heavy, unrelenting knocks. From the look on his face, I was the last person he had been expecting.

"Wha' d-"

"My owl's been injured, Hagrid," I babbled, not waiting for him to finish, "Sampson. He crashed into the milk jug. He normally does that, but this time he's hurt. He was hurt before he hit the milk jug though-"

"Let me 'ave a look." Hagrid said gently, cutting across me and holding out one of his massive hands. Sampson suddenly looked incredibly tiny as I placed him in Hagrid's palm.

"He's taken a bit o' a battering, no doubt." He said softly; one of his fingers gently lifting up Sampson's left wing. Sampsom twittered feebly; sending Hagrid a reproachful look. Roused by the noise; I saw Fang appear at Hagrid's side; his droopy eyes blinking curiously up at the little owl.

"'Ang on." Hagrid grunted, and disappeared into his hut for a few moments, leaving me standing at the doorstep; leaning forwards on my toes; the urge to dash in after him and ask if Sampson was going to be alright a little overpowering. Fang looked at me dolefully; his tongue lolling sideways out his mouth.

"Is he ok?" I asked the minute Hagrid reappeared; Sampson now having vanished,

"He'll be fine." Hagrid said; patting Fang on his grey head, "But I'll be looking after him for a bit. Looks like somethin' attacked him."

"Another owl?" I asked, and from the look in Hagrid's eyes, it seemed that neither of us believed that possibility for a second.

"You want someone ter blame?" Hagrid said in a low voice, "Try those ruddy Death Eaters up at the castle!"

This sudden, heated sentence caught me off guard, and my mind, tired from panic and worry, was geared into motion. Death Eaters had done this to Sampson?

"They were trying to read my mail?" I asked blankly, "Why?"

"I reckon yeh have bin in enough trouble to get Death Eaters on yeh back, Meg." Hagrid said darkly, "And none of this would be happening if Dumbledore were here."

To my great alarm, I saw tears clouding his eyes. Out of nowhere, a stab of realisation hit me. Hagrid was completely right; none of this _would_ be happening if Dumbledore were at the school. I was sure it would still be the safe haven it used to be. And as usual, when I thought about the 'what ifs' of things, my mind trailed directly to Malfoy. Sometimes, I really felt like most things were his fault. That happy bubble from last night seemed to be deflating slightly; and looking at Hagrid's sorrowful expression, I almost wanted to disintegrate into tears along with him.

"Tell yeh what," Hagrid suddenly said in a conspirational tone that made me immensely thankful he had changed the subject, "I've been sitting on an idea for a while now...Yeh'll have to tell Neville and the others, mind you..."

"Tell them what?" I asked, my curiosity growing, along with my sense of trepidation. Not that Hagrid was an idiot, he just didn't carry the air of someone who was cautious. He tended to stand out above others. Literally. Any 'idea' of his I met with some anxiety, especially in the current circumstances.

"I'll tell yeh nearer the time," Hagrid suddenly said decisively, "Yeah, it'll be better that way."

"What will be better?" I asked shrewdly, "Something extremely low key and uneventful and safe?"

"You'll see." Hagrid said, suddenly grinning, which I took to mean the confirmation exact opposite of what I had said. "Don't yeh worry 'bout Sampson. I'll give him back to yeh by the end of the week."

And with that, still grinning broadly and mysteriously, he closed the door in my face.

I walked back up to the castle with my mind lost in a melee of confusion and nervousness. Not that that was exactly a new mix of emotions from me; or anyone in this castle. I was pretty sure that whatever Hagrid was planning, it was not good news on the keeping out of trouble scale; but at the same time that conflicted with my desire, my need to do something. Out there, I knew Harry Potter was fighting; and I felt so weak here; and with the amount of powerful enemies I had made within the castle, sitting and doing nothing felt like bowing out and admitting defeat.

I was rather hypocritical as I spotted Alecto Carrow rounding the corner of the corridor up ahead and I dived behind the nearest suit of armour. Baby steps, I decided, crouching low and glaring at any students who were glancing curiously at me.

I staggered out a few minutes later; the armour clattering in indignation as I knocked its sword from its grasp, the loud bang not quite cooperating with my desire to be inconspicuous.

I had just shoved the sword in the crook of its armpit (the hand was suddenly being very unreceptive) as the visor jiggled up and down in loud protest, when a voice behind me made me jump.

"Forester."

I turned round, surprise making me reel at the slight, dark haired boy standing there.

I mean, the last time Evan Mulciber and I had talked...well. It had been a long while ago. A part of me regretted how easily our relationship had dissipated into nothingness. I mentally added it to the list of things I would change if I could.

"Hello." I said a little stupidly, wondering what on earth this could be about. Behind me, the sword dropped to the floor with a clang.

"I just wanted to say that it was Parkinson who gave that tipoff." Mulciber said in the same low voice; his brows lowered as if he were angry. I had learnt that that was simply his normal expression.

It took me a while to catch up, my brain was so scattered with thoughts. Finally, I got there.

"Pansy?" I repeated, and then heaved a tired sigh, rubbing my temple with my index finger. Was it natural to constantly feel so exhausted? "Of course it was Pansy."

I looked back to him, and saw he was still standing there expectantly, as if he were planning on saying something else.

"Is that it?" I asked carefully, hoping that wasn't too ungrateful.

"It's just..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable suddenly, seeming to be choosing his words cautiously, "Someone's been spreading rumours in the common room-"

"About me?" I asked blankly, wondering who would actually care. After all, I wasn't really the type to spawn gossip.

"No," Mulciber continued, still scowling, "About Malfoy."

It surprisingly only took me a few seconds to get there, but I realised that these rumours were a negative thing. And linked to me, judging from the fact Mulciber was here. Could it be that Slytherins were connecting the dots? I felt a swoop of panic, and at the same time realised something I had never really taken the time to contemplate before. Were they disapproving of this, if indeed they knew anything? Sure, I had always imagined that Terry and Antony would probably object to it, to put it mildly, but I had never even taken the time to consider that Slytherins would be equally unhappy at it. It just had simply never occurred to me before. What was the 'it' anyway? Malfoy and I _dating_? I almost felt like that word couldn't really be applied to us.

"Oh." I said, and I realised my tone had hinted I was a lot more understanding about this situation than I would have cared to let on. Mulciber's brows lowered.

"He's a Death Eater, you know." He said, and something in the way he spoke those words; in such a flippant way in an attempt to derail me, made my temper rise,

"As I'm sure the majority of Slytherin house are," I snapped, "If not their families."

"I told you that once." Mulciber said softly, "And you're right."

The reference to the days when we had had a relationship threw me slightly, my anger fading slightly. But the need to justify Malfoy, for whatever reason, remained.

"I'm not totally sure exactly what you're implying," I said, somewhat cattily, "But rumours about me are my concern. And I'm pretty sure you know I can handle them."

"I know." Mulciber said, looking at me as if he was remembering me, and not seeing me. It unnerved me slightly; and not in the kind of way Malfoy's eyes sometimes did.

"Well," I said, shoving my hands in the pockets of my robes, "Give Pansy a kick from me."

"With pleasure." Mulciber smirked, his eyes glinting in that dark humoured way of his, "And Forester?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it true you blew up the staff room?"

I ran, ever so slightly literally, into Malfoy after lunch, as I headed to meet Terry and Antony for a free period in the dusty and stuffy depths of the library. To say I was pleased with this chanced coincidence that saw my delay in studying, would be a definite understatement.

Given that I was rushing round the corner at the same time he was walking round the other side; hands in his robes and, unless I was imagining things, his face nowhere near as gloomy as usual, we crashed headlong; and I was flung backwards slightly, not having the advantage of height. His arms whipped out before I fell over.

"Hmm," I smiled, straightening up, "Déjà vu."

"I feel like you do this kind of thing on purpose sometimes, Forester." He said with the flash of a small smile; leaning down slightly to look me in the eye.

"The worrying thing is," I replied, straightening up, but quite happy to keep his hands on my arms, "Is that I _really_ don't."

He released me, much to my disappointment, but turned to face the direction I had been rushing in.

"Where are you running to anyway?" He asked, "God forbid you're late for Charms, right?"

"Study time is not to be ignored in such an important year," I said with mock severity, "But it would be incredibly rude of me to rush off without having a polite conversation with you first."

"_Incredibly_ rude." He said with a small, playful glint in his eyes, and the faint drawl in his tone made my heartbeat pick up slightly.

"Of course, I'm not totally sure we have ever had a polite conversation." I pointed out, beginning to walk towards the end of the corridor; one of the mirrors on the wall showing me the grin I was trying to hide unsuccessfully.

Malfoy didn't reply, and I got the feeling he was thinking about voicing something. Finally, as we approached the end of the corridor, he vented what was on his mind.

"Someone was saying you were upset at breakfast."

The unspoken question lingered on his lips, and I flinched slightly; the conversation with Hagrid grazing the surface of my mind. I shoved it back out of my thoughts.

"Momentary blip in my upbeat nature." I said with a shrug, shoving open the door ahead and slipping out onto the Stone Bridge; the lake glinting below us in the cold winter sunshine.

"I recognise this bridge," I said happily, smirking at Malfoy, "I seem to recall some uniform stealing went on here."

"Speaking of which," Malfoy said slowly, "I would quite like that tie back, Forester."

"I lost it."

"Liar."

"Prove it."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Forester?" He asked, meaning I had won the completely insincere argument, the look on his face seeming to suggest he didn't want me to go anywhere at all.

"Nope." I replied, grinning despite myself, marching over the bridge; the sunlight glinting welcomingly in my eyes, "I'm all yours."

He didn't say anything to this, but as I yanked the door at the other end of the bridge open, I was fairly sure I saw a smirk.

We walked down the weaving, tapestry filled corridor, a companionable, content silence swathing us. I tried not to think of serious, or gloomy matters, but the sight of a suit of armour saw words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I hear Pansy is spreading rumours about me," I sighed, for some reason failing to fully get across just how worried I should be. I think it was something about that look in Malfoy's eyes that made it hard for me to be serious,

"How times change." He sighed in mock wonder, and I swallowed a snort.

"I think she believes all those stories I told her about us kissing." I said, abandoning the sincerity now. This was much more fun. The corridor was deserted now, and an unexplained feeling of expectancy was stealing over me.

"She's evidently deluded." Malfoy said with a shrug, looking over his shoulder.

"That's what I said. I mean, I clearly don't like you." I added, looking the other way.

"Well, I don't care for you much either." Malfoy said with the faintest trace of a smile; his eyes glittering.

"That's settled then."

"I suppose so."

Without skipping a beat, we stepped towards each other at the same moment; hands whipping round one another as our lips met. I had to say, our timing was rather impressive.

For about five seconds, I relished in the feel of his hair under my fingers, and the wonderful feeling of his hands on the small of my back, firmly pushing me closer. Our lips moulded together; our breathing quickening.

Then there was a soft 'thlump' behind us, the sound of a book dropping to the floor.

I looked round hastily, and felt my eyes widen.

Terry stared back; his mouth somewhat ajar as he took in the scene he had just walked in on.

Well, I suppose that saved me the trouble of saying, hey, Terry, I think I might like Malfoy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hola everybody!**

**Thanks for being patient yet again! I'm trying to at least update weekly so I kind of managed it ;)**

**Sidenote...I've driven myself crazy listening to the HP soundtrack.**

**It was so worth it.**

**Wherein Slytherins are likened to Blast-Ended Skrewts and statues provide bonding sessions.**

The silence that followed for the next few seconds could only be described as awkward.

Everyone stared at one another a lot, as if to confirm that this really was happening. Just to check, I bit my nails onto the back of one of my hands that was currently wound around the back of Malfoy's neck. Yep, it hurt.

Terry then turned, jerkily and hesitantly, as if his brain were still absorbing what his eyes had seen, and hurriedly disappeared back round the corner; his footsteps quick on the flagstones.

I looked back at Malfoy, my hands clasped around his neck still.

"I think," I said slowly, kind of hoping this was a dream. Except the fabric of his robes beneath my hands felt too real; the tickle of his hairline on my fingers a little too soft for me to have imagined. That part was good. The Terry part, just slightly less so. It suddenly felt like something had died in my stomach, "I should probably follow him."

I wouldn't have said Malfoy looked annoyed, but a flicker of some emotion had passed through his eyes that was definitely different to the glitter that had been there until a few seconds ago, making me wonder what he was thinking. He gave a small, silent shrug, his fingers trailing slightly along my shoulders as he released me.

I hovered uncertainly for a moment before darting off down to corridor, towards the direction of Terry's swift footsteps. My brain was working overtime, unable to believe what had just happened. After all this time, I was still completely unprepared for this conversation. I had been banking on telling him on, say, the last day of term. Or in ten years time. But it had to be done now, and what on earth was I going to say?

I was still working on that when I nearly collided into him a few doors later.

We looked at each other for quite a while, both of us seeming to be waiting for the other to speak whilst we appraised the other's face.

I opened my mouth experimentally.

And shut it again.

Terry managed slightly better than I had.

"Why didn't you tell me, Meg?" He finally asked, his brows knotted in deep confusion. That made two of us. I was waiting for him to start yelling.

I let my shoulders sag, hating to admit the next few words, "I-I was afraid of what you would say."

"What did you think I would say?" I didn't know if he was still working himself up to yelling, but this cool, patient air was not what I had expected.

"I don't know!" I said, seeming to be getting angry on his behalf, running a hand through my hair in frustration, "That I'm being stupid? That he's a Slytherin?"

"He's more than a Slytherin-"

"That he's on the wrong side then," I said irritably, "I just thought you'd say he's Draco Malfoy!"

"Well," Terry deliberated, as if trying to be logical, "He is."

"Stop it!" I snapped, "At least yell angrily at me for lying to you for so long! Stop being so calm and collected!"

Terry suddenly looked as if he wanted to laugh, but seemed to quail slightly under my furious glare,

"'For so long?'" He finally repeated, as if something had just dawned on him, "Hang on, how long has this been going on?"

I was about to uncertainly reply, congratulating myself yet again for putting my foot in it, when he got there first,

"Since last year?" He asked, his eyebrows raising as if he were suddenly seeing things more clearly, "You've liked him for a _year_, haven't you?"

"I wouldn't say 'like' is the best word to use here-"

"Why didn't you tell me or Antony?" I suddenly felt like a small child being told off by an adult. There was a horrible sinking feeling in my chest as I looked at his expression, which actually seemed a little wounded,

"I told you," I mumbled, just falling short of looking down at the floor and shuffling my feet, "I was-"

"-Afraid of what we'd say, I get it, but this has been going on for _ages_!"

"No, it hasn't, actually," I corrected, trying to get on top of things once more, then, for some reason, I tried to turn this into a joke, "I was a bit angry at him all summer. This is a relatively new thing." Terry didn't bat an eyelid, and his next words crushed me slightly.

"Oh, Meg," He sighed, "After everything he did?"

"What do you mean?" I exclaimed indignantly, "He's only done a few things!"

"You're justifying him?"

"Yes," I said heatedly, "I am."

We stood glowering at each other for a moment. Well, I was glowering at least. Terry seemed more mature than that.

"Can we talk about this later?" He finally said, "I need to go and get some work done."

"There's nothing to talk about," I said waspishly, "I like him, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it's none of your business."

I remembered the last time Terry and I had not seen eye to eye, and that had led to a stubborn, silence (on my part at least) that had painfully lasted weeks. Now, stalking away and trying desperately not to feel immature or idiotic, I really hoped that there was something I could say later that would bring us back to normal.

I was a bit stung with how everything had panned out. Not that I had ever assumed my friends would be completely understanding where Draco and I were concerned. Because, hell, sometimes even _I_ didn't understand it. I flashed a dark look outside; met with the icy grey hues of a frosty winter's day. But, I decided, Terry and Antony were my friends at the end of the day, and whilst their opinion mattered, there were surely limits?

"Of course there are." I announced to thin air. I blushed as I realised the Fat Friar had taken this moment to glide suddenly through a wall. He glowered at me. He hadn't liked me much since I had laughed at his exorcism story last year, which I thought was a bit harsh. He hadn't heard himself.

The hour passed in a blur of discontent and irritation. I was too worked up to go and find Malfoy again, and I was carefully avoiding going anywhere near where Antony or Terry might be, so I set off to lessons alone, my mood as grey as the sky outside.

Winter had moved in for a few weeks now; frost glittering viciously on the jagged grass in the early morning, and sometimes not disappearing until well after midday. The temperature in the castle had dropped as low as it was outside, and during the next hour of Transfiguration, huddled in my cloak and scarf; Terry and I conversing in frostily polite small talk, which was definitely a step up from the last time we had fallen out; I looked up to find a few flakes drifting lazily past the window.

"SNOW!" I shrieked, momentarily forgetting myself; causing a few people to laugh and for McGonagall to deduct a few house points; which made the Slytherins laugh along too.

You couldn't blame the fact that my brain was hardwired to get excited about snow at Hogwarts. Snow anywhere is pretty amazing. But snow at Hogwarts; with the mountains blending into the white sky, the trees frosted and sagging under the weight of the fallen snowflakes; it gave a feeling of perfect endlessness. And nothing beat legging it across to the Quidditch Pitch; the crunching beneath your feet, and ruining the smooth blanket that had so flawlessly covered the ground. Nothing except making snowmen in crude imitations of your teachers or of certain Slytherins. Somehow, when I had used him as inspiration for developing my sculpturing streak back in our third year, Draco's sense of humour had been rather lacking.

Right now, I was failing to see how the enjoyment snow brought could be very different, spare the need to lookout for the odd Dementor. Obviously, I wasn't stupid enough to make a snowman of the Carrows or anything.

"_Hmmmmm._"

"I know that tone." Terry said, in the same cautious tone he had been using all lesson. I jumped. I hadn't expected him to talk where he didn't have to, "You've just thought of something you shouldn't do."

"You're wrong." I said stiffly, hoping there wasn't too much guilt in my expression, "I was just remembering the time I hit Cormac Mclaggen in the face with a snowball. Shame he's left now."

Terry's face showed he couldn't have believed me less, and luckily we were interrupted by Luna, who was holding a copy of the _Quibbler_, a wand tucked behind her ear; her long hair tied up with an orange ball that looked similar to something I'd seen in the greenhouses once. Sometimes, I liked her style.

"Hello Meg," She said dreamily, absent-mindedly playing with the pages of the magazine she was holding.

"I'll see you later." Terry sighed, before he could be acknowledged, not seeming to be able to fake courteousness with me anymore. I ignored him, turning to Luna,

"What's up?"

"Neville wants the DA together again," She said happily, "I'm fairly sure it has something to do with what you did, you know."

I, who had forgotten completely about what Neville had said about renewing the DA's efforts over the coming weeks, was distracted from everything that had happened with Terry and Malfoy for the first time today,

"What are we planning?" I said eagerly. The Carrows had undoubtedly been getting worse, and after Sampson, I wanted revenge. Not that anything short of my kicking them hard was going to satisfy me after what they had done to my owl.

"I don't know really," Luna sighed, "But Daddy thinks that opposition in any form is good."

"He's writing that?" I asked incredulously, glancing down at the _Quibbler_, "Isn't that a bit dangerous?"

"Our house is protected by Dirigible Plums," Luna said, looking at me almost pityingly, "And Daddy just planted Wrackspurt siphons. We're quite safe, you know."

"Oh well, that's ok then."

Luna appeared to have missed the sarcasm, which was probably a good thing, and instead took a giant pair of spectacles out her pocket, which looked more like lollipops stuck on a gold headband. I didn't question it.

"Just check your coin, Meg," She said happily, putting the spectacles on. I took an automatic step back, "I'll see you around."

"Yeah..." I managed to reply, a little distracted by the fact that she as now resembling a multi-coloured owl.

She ambled away, almost as if she were sleepwalking, humming a tune under her breath. I watched her go in mild amusement, almost envying that seemingly oblivious mental state she was always inhabiting.

The school day had finished before I ran into Antony, whilst heading towards dinner in the Great Hall. From the look on his face as he caught sight of me, Terry had been gossiping.

"Look," I said warily, darting round a few students to get closer to him, "I don't know what Terry said-"

"That his study time was interrupted by finding you snogging Draco Malfoy's face off." He said, his face expressionless. I couldn't tell if he were refraining from laughing, or scowling. My nerves were just a jumble of something of great viscosity after today.

"As opposed to you eating Padma's face?" I shot back, and was surprised to see him snigger, "Sorry," I mumbled, relaxing slightly at his amusement, "I've been feeling a little aggressive today."

"Hey," Antony said, waving a hand dismissively, "You've had a long day. And I'm not going to pretend that I'm anywhere close to liking Malfoy, 'cos I'm really not, but I'm not the one who's kissing him-"

"Now _there's_ an image-"

"But just be careful ok? I saw you at the end of last term, and I'm fairly sure he caused most of that."

I made a small noise of confirmation in a high tone, my lips pursed, suddenly feeling downcast. As much as I hated to admit it, he was pretty much right. But that couldn't drown out the fact that here stood one of my friends, seemingly ok with what was going on. One out of two, I guess.

"But it's not like you can't handle yourself, I suppose." Antony finished, smiling slightly, "In fact, you're pretty scary when you want to be."

"What else did Terry say to you?" I asked, looking sharply at him now, "I lost my temper, he was being a bit strange really-"

"Meg," Antony said, giving me a smile that I eventually decided was a little pitying, "I'm not the most observant person in the world, but I've been able to tell for a while that a little part of Terry quite likes you."

"Wha..." I completely failed with forming the rest of that word, I was too taken aback. My tongue suddenly forgot how to move. I mean, that had not even crossed my mind. Hell, it had been nowhere _near_ crossing my mind. How was that even possible? This was _Terry_, a person I had known since we were irritating first years who clogged up the corridors and had excessively massive backpacks.

"Not enough to do anything about it or anything," Antony said hastily, seeing that my vocal chords had completely failed me, "But, I don't know, I suppose he didn't think about you being with someone like _Malfoy_."

"Please stop saying it like that," I groaned, passing a hand through my hair again. Soon, I was fairly sure it was going to end up vertical, "You're making him sound like a Blast-Ended Skrewt."

"Well, he's not exactly the friendliest person in the world, is he? But Terry will be fine, he's just processing."

"When did you get so knowledgeable with all of this?" I asked miserably, currently feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet,

"I'm just generally a genius," He smirked, puffing his chest out, "Are you going to dinner?"

"No," I sighed, "I need to take a walk."

Antony's arm suddenly twitched, as if he were making to pat my shoulder, but then changed his mind. Instead, he settled for a small, fond smile, as if he wanted to make me feel better, but wasn't entirely sure what to say.

I shoved past the students milling about the Great Hall doors, ignoring the squeaks and grumbling sent my way as I ruined the wonderfully British protocol of politely queuing for absolutely everything.

I was headed for the grounds, until I realised the Dementors liked to occupy them nowadays. After wandering within the castle, I ultimately headed for the Transfiguration Courtyard, in need of some outside air.

The snow was still falling as I arrived; encompassing everything in that deadly quiet and stillness that only snow can do. In the torchlight I could see the flakes arching down from the sky; falling far more rapidly than they had been in Transfiguration. Already, a thin layer of snow covered the ground. Not quite enough for mashing with my feet yet, though.

Rubbing my hands together and hunching my shoulders against the cold, I settled on a stone bench next to a rather grumpy looking statue of a winged boar.

It was hard to believe just how scattered my brain was feeling; every thought darting about as randomly as the snowflakes that were now falling on my hair and sticking to my face. Everything about today, with Sampson, the DA, Draco. And Terry. I couldn't quite process that. How had I never seen that before?

Thinking back on it, I couldn't see how I _could_ have seen it. He had been fine about Mulciber and I, at least as far as I had seen. But hey, I was the kind of person who someone could organise a dark plot around for an entire year and I would still not figure it out. Not thinking of any certain blonde Slytherin in particular.

I smiled ruefully as I pulled my knees up to my chest, envisioning him, the way his grey eyes glittered, and his lips curled into a sneer, or a smile, and how he wore that stupid heirloom ring on his index finger sometimes.

And I liked that thinking of Malfoy made me smile.

"That's right, smile away." Said the statue in a snide voice, "At least you can."

I gave a yelp, leaping off the bench and wheeling round, staring incredulously at the winged boar, which was now looking rather smug at having startled me,

"I...beg your pardon?" I asked, a little flabbergasted, my heart racing still,

"I said 'smile away,'" It said huffily, "Honestly, now you're really rubbing in the fact that you can move."

"And you...can't?"

"I'm a statue, aren't I?" It scoffed, "Can't move for peanuts!"

"Uh...huh."

"And all this snow is freezing my wings. You would think someone would move me under a shelter, but oh no, apparently here is more aesthetically pleasing. Aesthetically freezing, more like!"

"Ri-ight."

"And they've moved Greg, you know. They didn't move _me_, but at least I don't have to listen to sonnets anymore."

"Greg?"

"Another statue, silly. Maybe I do miss his sonnets. It's better than talking to myself."

"Well, I'm going." I said decidedly, "Good luck with the sanity and all that."

As I turned to go, my foot caught on a frozen patch of snow, and glancing down, I saw it was a half-heartedly made snowball, which had probably been abandoned upon the sight of a teacher. Or a Carrow.

"Students these days," The statue was mumbling, "Can't talk to any of them. They go to a magic school and yet seem to think talking statues are strange."

I bent down and nudged the snowball with my fingers, a smile breaking over my face as the surrounding flakes clung to it firmly. It appeared this snowfall was rather good for sticking.

"_Hmmm_." I said again.

"They talk to inanimate snowfall instead," The statue carried on, and I rolled my eyes, shoving the snowball across the floor; ignoring the iciness that pierced my skin.

"Will you shut up?" I told it, the ball already larger than my fists, "Or I'll throw this at you."

"Well, that's just lovely, and what's got your wand in a knot?"

"A bunch of stuff," I sighed, rolling the ball over and listening to the soft 'thlump' it issued with satisfaction, "And most of that I can pin on boys."

"Boys are smelly-"

"It's not like it's even anyone's fault," I continued, piling a lump of snow on top of the roughly made ball, patting it down with my freezing hands, "But everything has just got incredibly confusing. But not really. Oh, I don't know."

"You sound insane to me."

"That's pretty rich, coming from a statue whose missing sonnets." I retorted, shaping a rough circle on top of my snow mound, "Does that look like a person to you?"

"No."

"Good. Well, I'm not insane. I know how _I_ feel about people, I just didn't know how _they_ felt about me. And now I feel awful for how they feel."

"That's a whole lot of _feeling_."

"How do you spell 'Amycus'?"

"I'm a statue, you moron."

"Yet you appear to have mastered the English language fairly well. _There_. Finished."

I had to say, it wasn't the best snowman in the world. Dean Thomas had been far better at making them, but, well. Times had changed.

A little limited with ideas, I'd made a stand in the most creative way I could currently think of after the end of a very long and emotionally charged day. And that was to make an Amycus snowman.

"I think I've got the bulkiness dead on," I said critically, throwing my hands on my hips to study it, "And the label helps, I guess."

"Is this your way of setting the world straight?"

The voice didn't belong to the ever-whinging gargoyle, and I jumped, looking up to see, standing in the archway to the indoor corridor, Terry, his arms folded against the cold as he looked at me hesitantly. A plunge of uneasiness shot through me at the sight of him. Had Antony told him what he'd said to me? Yet another conversation I really didn't want to have at all.

"I...yeah." I forced the words out a little distractedly, wondering where this was going. Unless I was searching desperately for it, there seemed to be a look of tranquillity in his eyes that filled my chest with wild hope.

I left it to him to make the next sentence, looking firmly at him, a steely look in my eyes as I braced myself for what he was going to say. If he was going to say anything. Between us, the snowman sat in its muddled heap.

"Antony said he let a few things slip." Terry said at last, dropping his gaze from me to study his shoes, one foot experimentally jabbing the snow by his feet. He looked up when I didn't reply, and I summoned every ounce of bravery to speak,

"I want to hear it from you."

I wasn't trying to aggravate him, or draw out this uncomfortableness, but we could hardly rely on the word of Antony here. We needed to sort this out, Terry and me. I shoved my hands in my robes so he couldn't see me crossing my fingers, wishing desperately that, somehow, Antony had got this completely wrong.

Terry looked at me for a few seconds, and then let out a rather shaky sigh, almost as if he were resigning himself to my reaction.

"I like you," He finally said, and I felt my heart plunge, "I've quite liked you ever since you fell into our compartment on the train in our first year."

I was stuck between thinking that my brain had stopped working, and thinking that it was overworking frantically; absorbing this and wondering what the hell to say now. I couldn't believe I had found myself if this situation; a situation that I could never have thought possible. Thankfully, Terry seemed to sense that I was going to be unresponsive for a while,

"I know we've only ever been friends, and that's fine-"

"You like me?" I accidentally interrupted, blurting out the first sentence I could think of in an attempt to catch up with the proceedings.

"It doesn't matter." Terry said swiftly, "You're my friend, Meg, before anything else. He makes you happy, right?"

"Really happy." I answered quietly, thinking of the bear cub, darting out into the night.

"Then I've got to be happy for you." Terry said unblinkingly. But for once, he didn't sound as logical as normal, and I was too cowardly to question this declaration.

"Now this is much better than a sonnet." The statue remarked gleefully.

"Shut up." I told it, turning back to Terry, "Just...why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't want to end up here." Terry said with a small, humourless smile, waving an indicating hand. I assumed he wasn't including my snowman in this. "I didn't want our friendship to become this stupid, awkward mess!"

"I blame the other boy." The statue suggested helpfully.

"What shall we do?" I asked uselessly, ignoring it. "I don't want anything to change."

Terry opened his mouth, and was cut off by the bang of a door opening not far off.

I didn't need to think twice.

"Leg it!" I squawked, leaping round the snowman and grabbing Terry's arm, tearing off down the corridor in the opposite direction to the rapidly approaching footsteps.

"I'll tell them I did it, you know!" The statue called after us. I mentally cursed all exasperating statues.

Our footsteps pounded on the flagstones, our breathing hurried as we ran, and I couldn't help the grin that was breaking out on my face. I really hoped it was a Carrow who had been about to enter that courtyard,

"It could have been anyone coming!" Terry panted behind me, his arm still firmly in my grip,

"They were aggressive, evil, Death Eater footsteps." I insisted happily, veering round a bend and finally slowing down, brushing my hair roughly from my eyes, "And they would not see the funny side of my snowman."

"No one will see it now if it was them. They'll break it."

"I shall not be deterred. It will be built again." I said in a mock omnipotent tone, drawing myself up and assuming a ridiculously supreme face.

Terry started to laugh, and before I knew it, I was laughing too.

It's weird what laughter can do to lift a cloud of discomfiture. Sure, everything that had been said was still hanging over the both of us, but it no longer felt completely crushing. Almost, well, almost as if we could get past it. And I hoped to everything that we could.

Because through everything that had happened, and all I had been through, they were there; the constant thing in my life that I took for granted far too often. And without needing to think about it, I knew they were two of the most special people in my life. And where everything else had been pressed and shifted and changed around me, they had been there; my two best friends. And I couldn't fight hard enough to keep them.

It was then I realised that there were quite a few things I was fighting for. Hogwarts, my friendship, my friends. And Malfoy, I added with a small grin.

And I was totally convinced they were all worth my time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Gah 11/11/11...still waiting for the world to end at some point ;)**

**I'm so sorry about lack of updating but my current trawling through the universities of Britain provides me with very little writing time xD**

**Anyways...thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews over the last few chapters! Well, over the whole story really...they really make my day so thanks so so much! C:**

**In which I leave my mark and have a late night pyjama party.**

I woke up that night to someone shaking my shoulder.

"Go'way." Was the first sentence out my mouth, as I made slapping motions in the direction of the hand that was shaking me.

"Meg, wake _up_."

Very, very reluctantly, I opened my eyes.

"Oh come _on_." I muttered grumpily, having taken in my surroundings with one, bleary glance.

The sun wasn't even thinking about rising yet; the outside sky indiscernible from the darkness inside the dormitory. It couldn't be more than three in the morning. Yet the hand on my shoulder was growing persistent.

"If it's not an emergency, I don't care." I grumbled, thinking that given the tiredness that was forcing my eyelids shut, an emergency would equate only to the world ending. And maybe not even then.

"Antony and Terry say it's definitely worth getting out of bed for."

I recognised the voice as Padma's, which therefore at least gave me someone to blame for waking me up. But her words jogged a bit of life into me, and very against my will I rolled over so I could see her face. What little I could make out showed that she was looking excited about something; her shoulders tensed and her face expectant. Finally, curiosity instilled a need to get up.

"Fine." I grumbled, throwing back the covers and stumbling out of bed, swearing under my breath as my toe caught the slightly uneven floorboard that had been there since the first year.

The rest of our dormitory appeared to be asleep still, and Padma led me out the room silently; out into the darkly lit corridor; the floorboards creaking underfoot as we headed towards the boy's dormitories. My more conscious self may have questioned this, but right now, I was busy pining for my duvet.

I could almost feel my eyes closing again, and I was jerked rudely back towards alertness when the door to the seventh year's dormitory was opened abruptly.

"Meg's here." Padma's voice said brightly, and I opened my eyelids to see forms silhouetted by candlelight; all crowded into the small room.

"What's goin' on?" I asked stupidly, rubbing my eyes. Before I could focus, Antony's hand grabbed me and yanked me into the dormitory.

"Pyjama party." He said cheerfully.

The room was crowded with a mixture of Ravenclaws; all of which were in the DA.

Michael Corner, Terry, Luna, and Antony were all scattered out over the beds; some yawning, others looking somewhat more awake. Most of them seemed to be facing a radio perched on top of a case.

"I'm sleeping." I said stupidly to Antony, heading over to the edge of the nearest bed and settling on it; grabbing the duvet and wrapping it around my shoulders. From the soft noise of irritation Terry made, I assumed I had just ruined his carefully made bed.

"I disagree." Antony said cheerfully, and went over to the radio, taking out his wand and glancing at Michael, "'Prewett', did you say?"

"Yeah, that's what Neville told me."

None of this was making much sense to my tired brain, and I sank back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling until I jumped at an unfamiliar, crackling voice filling the air.

"Sorry about not being on air for the past few weeks, listeners. We've had a few problems with those pesky Chief Death Eater minions. But I can assure you, now that we're in a much better, oh-so-secret location; we're going to be set to stay for a while."

"Potterwatch!" I exclaimed, finally grasping what was going on.

"Well done." Antony said in an acerbic tone more worthy of myself, and silencing me with a wave of his hand. Everyone's attention diverted once again to the small radio perched on top of someone's battered trunk.

"First let's bring our attention to an event that was sadly missed by us here on _Potterwatch_," Lee was saying, and after a moment of consideration, he continued, "A few nights ago it was Halloween. On this night sixteen years ago Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord. While we can look at what's happening now as the darkest days of our lives, we can put our faith in the one boy who has had the power to end all of these dark times once already. Wherever you are Harry, whatever you're doing; there are a lot of people who believe in you and haven't lost hope. So, listeners, wherever you are as you listen to this, whether if you're at Hogwarts, your home or on the run, don't forget that hope is never, ever lost."

A silence had fallen over our company, so strong and powerful that nobody dared speak as we listened to Lee's voice. My mind settled back on what I had said to Malfoy all that time ago as we had stood in the Entrance Hall, looking down together over the banisters at the Dungeons. I had told him not to give up then, when I suppose he already had. It was so easy to see why he had taken that attitude, when goodness knows what he had lived through. Well, I already had a vague idea, and that enough had lit sympathy in my heart amongst all the other feelings that were riddled with it.

So here I sat, thinking of him, at about three in the morning as seven of us crowded round a shabby radio that was telling us not to lose hope. We all seemed to be a prime example of what this war was doing to people; how it was warping and changing the familiar things we had held dear. I wondered vaguely how many people were in this position, and then decided that the actual question should be who _wasn't_ in this situation.

I was fairly sure that one day, perhaps soon, things would reach the point of no return; a climax to what was going on, and maybe, just maybe, things would turn out ok.

It was then that I decided I was taking Lee's words to heart, no matter what.

"What do you mean, my snowman _moved_?"

It was midmorning on Tuesday, and even my thick winter jumper and scarf couldn't shield me from the cold wind blowing in through the Transfiguration classroom window I was sat next to. Given that I had been late, (being awake at three o'clock in the morning listening to illegal radio broadcasts will do that to you) I had lost the seating game and was stuck here. No amount of complaining about my struggling in learning due to the cold weather would persuade McGonagall to shut the window. She was evidently from an even colder climate than here and seemed to find the temperature perfectly tolerable.

"I told you," Terry said patiently, waving his wand at the frog on the desk. It gave a loud croak and turned into a bowl, "It's gone from the courtyard, and now it's up by the Clock Tower. Won't be long until Filch finds it, I reckon."

"Well, it hardly got up and walked off, did it?" I replied, my teeth chattering as I poked my frog with my wand. Like Terry's, it let out a load croak. Unlike Terry's, it didn't turn into anything.

"What kind of school do you think we go to, Meg?" Antony snorted, catching his bowl that was currently leaping towards me. I pulled a face at him. Lately, his sarcasm was knowing no boundaries.

"I have a feeling someone helped it on its way." Terry said with a smile, "But this means a lot of people have seen it now. The anonymous sculptor is quite infamous."

I looked up just as he turned his smile to me, and there was a brief pause of discomfort until I glanced down to pretend to be examining my now rather huffy-looking frog that evidently didn't take kindly to being poked with a wooden stick.

Terry and I were treating each other as we always had, but that didn't mean that the things that had been said had been forgotten. I could tell that we were each trying desperately to move past it, and I'm sure with time it would be fine. But _now_, however.

"Hey, hold this." Antony said, interrupting my thoughts as he shoved his DA coin into my hand.

"Will people stop doing that!" I exclaimed crossly, setting it down hastily as it seared my hand.

"It's down for tonight." Antony said eagerly, "That's two meet-"

"Antony, shut _up_." Terry whispered, kicking him under the desk as I let out a quiet exclamation of alarm.

Slowly, and in unison, all three of us turned round casually to see if anyone had heard.

Over towards the door to the classroom, Malfoy caught my eye, and I didn't bother fighting the small, smirk-like grin that claimed my face. After a second, he returned it too, his eyes warming.

"Your frog is escaping, Meg." Antony said helpfully, and I whipped round, still smiling like an idiot.

"So it is."

Before I could grab it however, it gave me a reproachful look and a humungous croak and then leapt out the window. Luckily for it, we were only on the first floor.

"Well, that's never happened before." I pondered, before turning towards the front of the class, "Professor! I need a new frog."

The overnight snow had well and fully settled on the ground now as we left the classroom a half hour later; the windows seeming to sag under at least five centimetres of glaring white weather; glittering in the pale, petulantly weak sun. The grounds looked like someone had sprinkled flour for miles; the icy sky sapping any colour in the landscape.

"I need to leave my mark on it before everyone else does." I grumbled towards the view of the outdoors as we jostled with the students heading to their next lesson; all shivering in the cold winter air that seemed worse in these draughty, large corridors.

"Haven't you left your mark on enough things?" Terry mused, "The walls for instance, or that toilet stall door you kept telling me about in the third year?"

He was interrupted by a tearful looking first year asking directions for their Herbology lesson. I refrained from any quip that could stem from pointing out the socking great greenhouses visible across the next courtyard and simply let Terry handle it.

"That door was a work of art by the time I was finished with it," I finally replied as the first year gratefully staggered off, "And running through snow is a little different."

"I don't understand why you can't just look at it." Terry smiled, looking at me,

"Snow was made to be played in." I persisted stubbornly, as Padma and Antony caught up with us. Just as they did so, I snatched a flash of blond hair across the heads of the hurrying students, and, catching Malfoy's eye, saw the beckoning look on his face as he smirked at me. I briefly decided that I should get a Galleon off him for every time he smiled like a normal person.

"I need to go." I said quickly, just as Antony opened his mouth to speak. He frowned slightly, before following my gaze.

"Oh." Was all he said, and my heart rate increased slightly as I suddenly felt urgently worried. I really hated just how much I cared about what he and Terry both thought.

But Antony's eyes relaxed, and he looked back at me with a grin, that was small, yet unbothered.

"Just how many times have you snuck off like this without us noticing?"

"Noticing what?" Padma asked curiously and I shot Antony a 'well done' look.

"I'll see you later." I said determinedly as Padma glanced reproachfully between Antony and I. I hoped she wasn't the kind of person who could wrangle things out of people easily. I wasn't quite prepared to make school gossip yet. Something told me Pansy Parkinson wouldn't be best pleased at the news.

Malfoy was leaning casually against the wall when I reached him, hands in pockets and looking at me with an expression that told me he hadn't forgotten why or how we had parted the other day.

"Let's walk." I said the second I was in earshot, taking hold of his arm and heading further along the hallway.

"Since you asked so nicely, Forester." He replied, sounding mildly amused, but apart from that allowing me to lead him past the crowds, towards the outer, quieter edges of the castle.

It was at least four weeks until the Christmas holidays began, but looking around at the snow-covered surroundings it could as well have been late December. I bitterly noted that I couldn't sign up to go home for the holiday's quick enough. Something told me that this year having a Christmas dinner in the Great Hall, and breaking crackers with the headmaster was a little out of the question.

"Go on then, Forester." Malfoy said in a low voice as we passed the Transfiguration courtyard. True to Terry's word, the snowman had vanished. I briefly wondered if the world's most talkative statue was lonely once more, "Tell me what happened."

"Not much really." I shrugged, not bothering with pretending to be clueless to the fact that he was referencing when Terry had so unwittingly stumbled in on our secret. Poor soul. "It turned out surprisingly well-"

"Define 'well.' Your _friend_ didn't look happy."

There was something in his tone that suddenly made me glance suspiciously into his eyes. He didn't look angry or irritated, but there was a knowing look in his eyes that made me feel uncomfortable. And a little bit stupid. Did everyone know about Terry's feelings aside from me?

"He's fine." I said, perhaps a little too hurriedly. Malfoy gave me a mild look that made me feel that he had seen straight through me.

"They _will_ be fine," I amended, desperately avoiding his gaze, "They don't like you though."

"Well, I'd never have guessed." He muttered acerbically, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's not like they don't have reasons." I reminded him, shooting him a careful glance to see how he would react to that. I was surprised to see a frisson of pain mar his features, as if I'd reminded him of something he'd rather forget. I fancied I'd seen that look on his face earlier this term, the majority of the time we had been fighting. Or rather, when I had been screaming at him.

"You blame me for everything that happened, don't you?" He finally mumbled, staring ahead at the stone bridge just visible through the windows; the crevasse spanning out below it.

I hesitated for a moment, a dull fear seizing me as I thought back to how things had been at the start of term between us. I didn't want to go back to that, not one bit. But I found this question the kind of one that you couldn't really lie to.

"Sometimes, yes." I weakly replied at last.

Malfoy was silent for a moment, his eyes dull and face downcast as he maintained his gaze on the sights ahead of us.

"I blame me too." He said in a quiet voice.

Well this was cheery. I had expected Malfoy to get angry with me for admitting that; it hadn't occurred to me just how guilty he felt about what he had done. Then I realised I was a total idiot.

"I know." I said softly, although I hadn't really taken the time to think about it. I had been so self-obsessed with how things had affected me, that I hadn't stopped to think how Malfoy must be suffering. Because he was. I could see it in his eyes; that haunted look that had been there since the sixth year. I suppose that, no matter what side you were on, if any, that in this war, nobody could escape getting hurt.

"I just wish..." He broke off, and I knew that feeling far too well. There were so many things we could change if we could turn back the clock, that it was a little hard to pick a defining moment that would have prevented this outcome.

And there was that small, quiet thought that would occasionally wriggle into the back of my mind, one that I selfishly listened to. If everything had turned out differently, if we were in another world; where no Dark Lord had cast a shadow of fear and danger over everything, that Malfoy and I would never be where we were now. In fact, I was pretty dead certain that we would never have crossed the boundary of dislike that had surrounded us both so tightly for such a long time. And that thought kind of made me shudder.

"Everything is quite a mess, isn't it?" I commented with a small, humourless smile as the greenhouses dropped out of sight now, our feet heading down a small flight of steps that branched into a narrow hallway lightened with high arching windows.

Malfoy made a small confirming noise, his face still looking drawn.

Not really thinking about it, my hand found its way into his, my fingers winding between his in an almost comforting way.

"What happened to you over the summer?"

It was a question I had wanted the answer to for a while; one I had gained a snatching insight too via various sources. But I wanted the truth, from his lips; to know why his skin was paler and more drawn that ever before, and why that expression his face could assume could be both so young and afraid, and old and world weary.

Malfoy heaved a heavy sigh, ceasing walking and instead leaning back against one of the windows looking out across the mountains, his fingers dropping from mine as he shoved them in his pockets.

"I don't know how much I can tell you." He said after a long silence, "I'm no good at Legilimency -"

"The cool mind-read-y thing?"

Despite himself, his lips twisted into a small grin at my words. It vanished, however, at as he spoke again,

"'It's just...My house is worse than here."

The way he said that was finalizing, and I knew I wasn't going to hear any more than that. He looked at me, and I realised I didn't _need_ any more information than that. Of course, my imagination ran away with me slightly, as I pictured a whole host of Death Eaters hanging out at Malfoy's home. But then again, maybe that wasn't too farfetched for nowadays.

"Let's keep walking." I eventually said in a quiet voice, reaching out to take his arm gently and leading him down the corridor once more.

I wish I could have thought of something wonderful and comforting to say, but to be honest, my brain was rather empty. I wasn't quite feeling like I was walking on sunshine either.

So, with nothing else to say, I reverted to pointing out the most ridiculous, light-hearted thing I could think of.

"That statue there has always looked freakishly like Umbridge, you know." I blurted out, mentally kicking myself for being such a social reject, "Maybe they should make some of the Inquisitorial Squad whilst they're at it. Give us something to vandalise."

"Hm." Malfoy said in mock consideration, and I took a moment to admire our complete failure in discussing the dark side of things for more than a few minutes, "And then I'd probably catch you, as you are possibly the least subtle person in the world."

"It's hard work having that title, let me tell you."

"It will like that time I caught you trying to slip a Niffler into Umbridge's office." Malfoy continued, a note in his voice telling me he wasn't particularly happy with this memory. He sounded a little bitter. Naturally, this memory was rather good from my point of view.

"Oh yeah," I sighed happily, remembering, "And I knocked you out."

"I thought the quick succession of Stunning spells was a little unnecessary to be honest."

"Right," I snorted sarcastically, "After all, it wasn't like you would have _reported_ me or anything."

"You'll notice I didn't." Malfoy said, smirking slightly,

"I assumed you were too concussed to remember anything."

"It would appear you were incorrect then."

I turned to look at him, an amused grin on my face. A hesitant smile was my reward.

"Well, I'm sure you took plenty of opportunities to get your own back," I replied, smirking too, "And-"

I broke off as we rounded a corner to a corridor whose left wall was perforated with large, intricate, glassless windows. The view beyond them was a clear one of the grounds that tumbled down towards the lake that was seeming to glitter around the edges; frozen with ice.

The bit that caught my attention was the yielding, unspoiled snow that blanketed the ground in disrupted smoothness, as it rolled down the slope.

"_Oooooo_." I murmured, my concentration completely gone,

"What?" Malfoy asked, and I just caught the amusement in his tone as he looked at what was sure to be a longing expression on my face. I turned to give him a mischievous grin.

"Come on." I said bossily, grasping his hand tighter and dashing over to the nearest window.

"Meg..." He trailed off in utter bewilderment as I released him, and hoisted myself up onto the windowsill,

"Now I know you're confused," I grinned, hopping down onto the other side, the snow giving a satisfying crunch as I landed, "Calling me by my first name. _Crazy_." I turned to face him as he stood there, watching me uncertainly, "Well," I sighed, beckoning him, "Come on then."

He didn't come very enthusiastically.

In between muttered grumblings that were probably directed at me, and the occasional sigh of annoyance as he swung his long frame out through the arching window, he gave me plenty of time to laugh silently at him, completely unnoticed.

"Where are we going, Forester?" He finally said, sending a glare at the window as if it was its fault for this whole experience.

I merely sent him a grin, raising my eyebrows mysteriously and seized his arm roughly; and in one clumsy motion, I began to sprint down towards the lake, dragging a very reluctant Malfoy behind me.

The snow was wonderfully deep; my footfalls sinking into it crisply; crunching loudly as flakes were pressed down together, my feet sliding and breath steaming as it clashed with the freezing air. I could hear Draco moving behind me, and started to snigger at the fact that I was currently hauling a very grumpy Slytherin along beside me as I reverted back to being a ten year old.

About halfway down the hill, I let my knees give way, crashing to the ground and making the snow issue a loud 'flump' as I sank into it; now laughing hysterically.

Malfoy stood above me, looking a little worried for my health. But even he couldn't hide the amused look flitting onto his face.

"Come on." I beckoned, gesturing to the snow beside me. He pulled a face more reminiscent of the old Malfoy, his sneer lines deepening. Funny, I kind of found them attractive.

"No thanks." He drawled, his eyes glittering despite his tone, "I think I'll keep whatever body heat I have left."

I cut him off by reaching up and grabbing his robes, pulling the soft fabric towards me, Malfoy intact.

"Wow, your hair is almost identical." I commented, as I patted the snow beside me with a smirk,

"Shut up, Forester." He muttered, then the snow beneath him rustled as he leant over, and kissed me. Needless to say, I shut up.

At least until a patch of snow slid down my neck.

I let out a 'eep!' noise of protest, leaping sideways so I was sitting up; shaking the back of my robes so the snow slid out from being in contact with my skin. I had almost been hoping a passing student had fired a snowball at us, but owing to the fact that nobody else was around and that Malfoy was now laughing his head off, I was left with one possible suspect.

He stopped laughing pretty sharpish when I scooped up as much snow I could carry, and lobbed it in his face.

I staggered upwards, snorting uncontrollably, trying to focus on running away before Malfoy could get to his feet.

Unfortunately for me, he was quicker than I had anticipated.

His hands closed around my waist and we both stumbled back to the ground; getting soaked through.

I couldn't remember laughing so hard since that time in our third year when the school had thought it was a good idea to have a choir up to sing at the start of term feast. And that had been a tears rolling down my face and trying to stay quiet kind of affair.

There had also been that time we had had to sing the school song for the benefit of two visiting schools for the Triwizard Tournament, and that had nearly killed me too.

But here, there was a kind of infectious happiness as we played in the snow; ridiculously light-hearted after the dark things we had so recently been discussing. Sure, we were both hiding from it, but that seemed to suit us both fine for now, and really, if it was making Malfoy smile, it was worth far more to me than finding out his every little secret.

"I would have thought you would be above playing in snow." I sniggered, when we had ceased chucking as many snowballs as we could at one another; wiping flakes off my face and brushing my damp hair from my eyes,

"I'm definitely hoping nobody was watching from the window." Malfoy agreed with a smirk, slightly out of breath as he straightened up, adjusting his robes,

"Your reputation will be trashed." I agreed with another snicker, glancing around at the deep ruts in the ground that we had created.

We fell quiet, still regaining our breath, silence blanketing us as we watched the deserted, washed-out landscape.

I snuck a look at him from under my eyelashes, and took in the grin that was on his lips. I had once told him that he made me miserable, and so he had. But right now, sitting beside him, my limbs wet and cold yet my heart warmer than it had been for a long time, I felt like the happiest person in the world.

A noise like a gunshot split the silence, and a lone firework suddenly spurted far into the air up above the castle's turrets and exploded; its orange rays livid against its white backdrop.

I didn't need much time to imagine who had set it off. It appeared someone in the DA may have taken my advice after all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hai everybody! Sorry I meant to upload this yesterday but owing to a curse that meant everything technological around me broke I couldn't :'(**

**Thanks for all the reviews that are really making my day! **

**You people are the bestest xD **

**In which far too many people hide in one cupboard and there's an awful lot of running.**

A second rocket had shot up into the air before Malfoy or I moved.

Then, as one, we leapt to our feet, and after a moment's hesitation began to hurry towards the source of the commotion, just as another firework burst; its sparks shooting high above the castle, this time red and purple.

"What's going on?" Draco muttered, his eyes fixed on the sky.

"I'm blaming either Dr Filibuster or a Weasley" I replied, before breaking into a run. Something told me I didn't want to miss this.

We arrived in the Entrance Courtyard just in time to be in the middle of a full-scale uprising.

Someone, and here I was guessing someone who had no aversion to blowing up things (and went by the name of Seamus) had carried a crate of fireworks into the courtyard, and set them off. The result had been somewhat momentous.

The wall on one side of the courtyard had collapsed under a particularly vicious Catherine wheel; and one of the trailing plants that clustered above the doors to the Entrance Hall was ablaze; smoke shadowing the area, thick and hot; its smell heavy and acrid.

A large crowd of students had gathered in the courtyard, like this was some twisted version of Bonfire Night, looking gleefully at the destruction the fireworks were reaping, cheering as a one exploded near one of the turrets, dangerously close hitting a few roof tiles.

Just as Malfoy and I had stopped moving, taking in the scene before us, the doors to the Entrance Hall banged open, audible even as another rocket shot upwards, whooshing merrily.

Everyone turned to look at Alecto Carrow, just as the rocket exploded, yet somehow the large bang wasn't particularly perceptible anymore.

"Run away." I muttered in Draco's ear, tugging at his sleeve, beginning to edge back towards the exit of the courtyard.

Alecto let out a loud shriek and drew her wand in one swift movement, her eyes popping. Within a split second, the entire ensemble of the student body followed my lead. Luckily for us, Alecto didn't seem to be aiming for anyone in particular, and seemed to be perfectly content to fire hexes at random, looking beside herself with rage.

"Meg!"

Anthony cut across our path as Draco and I headed back towards the way we had come,

"Come on," I yelled at him over the shrieking of people and the seemingly everlasting supply of fireworks, "I know where we can hide out for a bit!"

I grabbed Terry's arm roughly as the roofing above us was dislodged by a Stunning Spell. Ducking underneath it and leaping out of range from falling tiles I began to sprint down the nearest corridor, my mind frantically trying to remember the route to my destination whilst behind us, I could still here explosions and hoarse shouting.

I finally recognised the small, battered door; a mop and copper bucket perched beside it, and seizing the handle and yanking it open I dived in, leading the rest of the mismatched group I had acquired.

"There," I said happily slamming the door shut, "I used to hide in this broom cupboard all the time when the Inquisitorial Squad was after me."

"I'm glad to solve the mystery of where you disappeared to Forester." Malfoy muttered in the darkness.

"_Lumos."_ Said Terry's voice.

"Oh," I said dully, realising exactly who I was currently sharing a broom cupboard with as the light illuminated four other figures. Padma, Antony, Terry. And Draco Malfoy.

Talk about awkward.

"I guess we only have to wait a few minutes in here." Antony said hurriedly, as if he had just read my mind.

"Yeah." I put in, trying to add something to that sentence and having my tongue die instead.

Despite there being five brains in this cupboard, not one of them seemed to be able to summon words together. Mine definitely felt rather sluggish. I concentrated on the distant sound of noise outside.

"Looks like it might snow-" I finally tried, reverting to the fallback of discussing the weather, but got cut off by Padma, who was busy glowering at Malfoy.

"What's _he_ doing here?" She asked, looking accusingly at him.

"He's waiting for Alecto to stop cursing everything that moves." I supplied patiently, ignoring her hostile tone, but Malfoy interrupted,

"I wasn't aware Ravenclaws were so choosy about who stood in a broom cupboard with them," He said snidely, folding his arms confrontationally.

"That really isn't helping." I told him.

"Don't talk to her like that." Antony scowled at Malfoy, stepping forward so he was standing next to Padma. I mentally hit my palm against my forehead at the way this was turning out,

"Shut up you lot." I said in my most commanding tone.

"I was just countering rude with rude, Goldstein." Malfoy smirked, completely ignoring me, "Is that not ok?"

"There's a time and a place for this-" I began,

"No, it's not ok." Antony grated, scowling.

"Am I suddenly invisible?" I asked the broom cupboard at large, waving my arms experimentally.

"Someone's coming." Terry suddenly said sharply and silence fell instantly over the company. I bit back any possible comment at how everyone listened to _him_.

Any humour that I had just lost at the hostile exchange was restored as I had the sudden desire to burst into a fit of giggles; picturing the image of someone opening the door and finding five students crouched amongst spider webs and battered broomsticks and mops.

The footsteps grew closer to our hiding place, heavy and hurried. From the sound of it, there was more than one person currently moving along outside.

The voice that spoke was unmistakably Amycus's.

"Wos goin' on anyway?"

"Someone went and set off a bunch of fireworks. Causing mayhem." Replied an unfamiliar voice that probably belonged to one of those Snatchers that distastefully kept popping up around the castle,

"Bloody students." Growled Amycus, "It's bad enough sucking up to those Lestranges after what's gorn on at the Ministry without having to deal with these whelps."

"Wish he'd just buzz off if it's that terrible for him." I remarked coldly in an undertone, and was immediately shushed by four pairs of voices.

But it seemed Amycus had not heard us, and the heavy footsteps moved swiftly on; leaving us in an uncomfortable silence. A crate of Mrs. Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover was digging uncomfortably into my back.

"What went on at the Ministry?" Padma finally asked blankly, deeming it safe to talk once again.

"No doubt it was Harry's little visit there," I said, remembering the first _Potterwatch _broadcast we had listened to in the common room, "I hope it really mucked the Death Eaters plans up, whatever they were."

"It did."

Malfoy's voice made us all jump, and we turned to him in astonishment.

"What?" Antony said sharply, evidently forgetting the animosity for the time being.

Malfoy gave a disconcerted shrug, although I caught the flicker of unease in his eyes as he looked at the sudden audience he had acquired,

"It did muck their plans up," He repeated, and then let a sneer grace his lips, as if he were afraid of being forthcoming for so long, "Didn't realise that was such a shocking revelation, Goldstein."

"How do _you_ know?" Antony demanded, and I decided now was as good a time as any to wrap up the conversation.

"Well, we can't stay in here all day," I said in a falsely jovial voice, clapping my hands together, "How about we go and see if anyone managed to set Alecto on fire?"

Before anyone else could speak, I seized Antony's arm and dragged him from the cupboard, ignoring the yelp of pain he emitted.

I didn't know whether I was annoyed or angry at Malfoy and Antony's behaviour just now. Or if I was simply disappointed, yet not particularly surprised. I mean, we had hardly all been friends for these past few years, and I suppose suddenly demanding that Antony and Terry like Malfoy was very steep a request. They hadn't seen what I had seen last year; the reluctance Malfoy had of rising to his expectations; that desolate look in his eyes that was still there. When I thought about it, if someone had asked me to suddenly be friends with Malfoy when I had been in, say, my fifth year, I would have laughed harder than when I had been confronted with the Hogwarts school choir.

And then there was Malfoy, knowing the effects Harry's actions had held on the Death Eaters and their plans. I was long past the point of pretending he didn't have contact with them, yet there was still that uneasy feeling in my stomach as I thought about him being around people like that.

Despite my voiced desire to see if our Muggle Studies teacher had been burnt to a crisp, I was forced in the direction that directly avoided the courtyard, which had now fallen eerily silent. The corridors were deserted, yet now and then a student ran past up ahead, and I got the general impression that the majority of the school were now hiding out. I didn't see how Alecto could prove that any of us had been tearing up that castle courtyard, yet after spending enough time around her, she didn't strike me as the kind of person who would seek out hard evidence before punishing people.

"We should get back to the common room." Terry muttered, "I don't fancy meeting any Carrow out here."

"You go." I said, catching Antony's eye, "I'll be right behind you."

I was met with a rather unhelpful silence at this, and had the sudden desire to stamp my foot in frustration.

To my great surprise, it was Terry who spoke a few seconds later,

"Ok," He said, sending a quick glance at Antony, "Come on."

I shot him a grateful look as he met my eyes; and saw the small movement of his shoulders as he gave a shrug, as if saying 'don't mention it.' The fact that Terry was standing here now, seemingly content to leave Malfoy and I alone made my heart swell with happiness.

Malfoy didn't say anything as the group left, his gaze flickering between them and me; and he actually looked a little uneasy for some reason. When Terry and the other were out of earshot, he turned to me.

"Are you going to get angry?" He said, folding his arms. He looked like he was trying to make a joke of it, but his eyes were watching me warily, as if he were actually hoping I wouldn't fly off the handle. As I met his gaze I assumed he was referring to his behaviour in the broom cupboard just now, and I let out a pained sigh.

"Why would I?" I said tiredly, running a hand through my hair, "This was never going to be exactly easy, and considering you both still have your limbs intact I think it went rather well."

"I'm sorry."

It was one of those moments that felt like it had suddenly dropped from the sky and landed very heavily straight onto my head. The fact that Draco Malfoy had just apologised to my face made me feel like I had to sit down.

"I...beg your pardon?" I spluttered, looking up in time to see the small smirk on his face,

"What?" He asked, actually looking relieved that I wasn't yelling at him, "Can't I apologise, Forester?"

"Well...yeah," I grinned sheepishly, shrugging, "I just wasn't expecting it."

He didn't say anything, but there was a satisfied look in his eyes that told me things had turned out far better than he had expected. I shook my head, at a loss.

"You should go back to your common room, Forester." Draco eventually said, looking at me in a way I couldn't quite fathom, "You're not exactly exempt from vandalising, if you see what I mean."

"How did you know?" I suddenly asked uneasily, completely trashing the light hearted atmosphere, "About the effects of the Ministry break in?"

Malfoy's face immediately returned to that drawn expression he wore when we weren't talking, and I hated myself for it. I was also very convinced that I really, really didn't want to know the answer.

He studied me for a moment, his eyes set on my face, and then he brought his arm up and briefly touched a finger to it. We both knew what was hidden beneath the sleeve; the Dark Mark leering from his pale skin.

"It burns," He said quietly, "When he's angry. When something's gone wrong."

I stood there rather stupidly for a pretty long time, trying to process that in my head. Malfoy was looking at me as if I were about to run away at any second, or finally have that freaking out session.

"Well," I said hopelessly, pressing a finger against my temple, trying to control my voice, "_That's_ not normal."

I didn't really know what else to say to that, I was so at a loss, and it came as a surprise when my tongue wasn't quite finished, "What are you going to do?"

The question was kind of meant to stay in my head; it was so hopeless and pathetic sounding. But unfortunately it slipped out, and left a silence in its wake. Malfoy probably didn't understand what I was talking about anyway. Nor, exactly, did I. I just kept hosting images of Malfoy surrounded by Death Eaters, and I really couldn't bear it.

"Forester," Malfoy said in a gentler voice than I was accustomed to. I looked up to see his eyes glinting slightly, "I'm going to stay around you."

The feeling of having your heart swell wasn't quite appropriate here, as it felt more similar to exploding happily in my chest. The smile that blossomed on my face as I looked at him was sheepish, and we stood a few feet apart, immobile, looking at one another.

"You'd better get going." Malfoy finally said quietly, still looking at me intently, in a way that made my insides warm despite the chill air, "And be _careful_."

"You speak like I'm clumsy." I snorted, rolling my eyes. This might have been a great parting statement, if I hadn't caught my foot on a cobble and stumbled slightly. I whipped round to see if Malfoy had seen. Much to my dismay, he was still looking at me. In response to my questioning gaze, he raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up." I said.

My thoughts kept drifting back to Malfoy's words during that day; the way he had looked as he had said being around me was his way out of his rather miserable situation, without even batting an eyelid. It made a smile twist my face when I ran it through my mind again. And again. And again.

In fact, I was so distracted for the rest of the day that I had entirely forgotten about the DA meeting until Terry and Antony practically yanked me from my seat by the fire. It seemed that neither of them was going to mention what had happened in the broom cupboard today, and I was content to leave it. For now. At the end of the day, I didn't want to cause an argument with Antony about something I had deemed insignificant to Malfoy.

"It's a bit risky going out tonight." Antony muttered, Padma joining us as we slipped out the common room, "After what happened."

"Don't be so sure I'll let you back in!" The eagle commented as I turned to shut the door,

"Of course we're sure you'll let us back in." I replied, "It's your _job_ to let us in. And like most Ravenclaw-related things, you can't do shoddy work."

"_Most_ of us," It repeated, eyeing me in a way that told me I was clearly not included in that assessment, "That is correct."

"Aw," I smirked, "Are we bitter about being a bronze door knocker for the whole of eternity?"

"Meg," Terry muttered, "We really need to go."

We went warily through the halls, that familiar feeling of trepidation weighing down on us. Yet, by a stroke of fortune, the only thing we encountered was Peeves bobbing along a seventh floor corridor, and the statue of Baranabus the Barmy provided sufficient cover owing to his rather generous stomach.

We arrived just as Ginny was opening the door to the room, a fierce look in her gaze that I had seen on the Quidditch pitch one time. And I had been terrified of it then too. Like most of us, the firework spectacle today seemed to have ignited in her a new level of rebellion.

I followed her in, looking around to see the majority of the DA already there, scattered around by the bookcases, and the dummies ready for another round of pummelling. With a brief jolt, I saw that there were a few new faces in the group. It seemed the Carrows' unpopularity was having its upsides.

"What are we doing tonight?" I asked eagerly the second I had stepped into the room, "I'm prepared to overlook the fact that someone completely stole my idea of the fireworks if I get to smash-"

"We're just practicing spells tonight." Neville said quickly, and my face turned from a happy, expectant expression into a full blown scowl.

"Seamus can't have all the fun." I pointed out. Over from his perch by the bookcase, Seamus gave me the thumbs up,

"Should've got the guts to do it yourself, eh, Meg?" He called, grinning broadly.

"It wasn't my fault you bought out the entire firework shop." I retorted.

"Yes, well, anyway," Neville said hastily, "Like I said, we're just doing defensive spells at the moment-"

"Are we expecting a war?" Luna asked, tucking her wand behind her ear, "Daddy was saying that the Carrows are going to be fighting the students in a few weeks time. He says they have an army of Wrack-"

"No." Neville said forcefully, "Nobody is fighting anyone."

"Oh." I said, a little dejected. I had been looking forward to getting an excuse to curse Amycus after Sampson, who was still in Hagrid's care. Hagrid had been growing irritated at all my trips to his hut to visit my owl. Apparently five visits a day was too excessive, even for Hagrid.

"But Seamus' little spectacle today will no doubt create problems," Terry interjected, glancing at Neville, "So we're preparing for if the Carrows do come after us?"

"Exactly," Neville said, looking relieved that someone had finally got his line of thinking,

"Is that likely?" Ginny asked, looking concerned, to which Neville shrugged unhelpfully,

"I don't see why not, they do seem to have cottoned on to the fact there's a specific group causing trouble."

"They'll have a hard time trying to work out how we're meeting though," Antony said smugly, "What with this room, _and_ the coins."

A niggling fear was worming its way in the back of my mind as he said this, and I realised that Malfoy knew about this room; perhaps better than most people in this castle. It wasn't like I expected him to tell anyone, but what if one of his Slytherin friends knew where he had been going last year? I doubted it, but still, I wasn't certain. I just hoped that they were all as thick as Crabbe and Goyle when it came to putting two and two together. But I cast it aside as we began to revise the use of protective spells. I had enough to worry about without the possibility of Slytherins finding our hide out.

All in all, it wasn't the best fun I had had at a meeting, and the feeling of satisfaction at defying the Carrows as we slowly filed out the room wasn't nearly as strong as it was usually, having only just mastered the Shield Charm without knocking everyone in the vicinity over.

"I just really want to make them see," I said quietly to Terry as we shrank back against a tapestry as the Fat Friar drifted past up ahead, "Just how many of us are willing to fight them."

"I know you do," Terry said soothingly, sending a pained look towards Antony and Padma who were lagging behind. "But we're already doing pretty well. And in this sort of environment we have to be careful."

"I know." I said glumly, "It's just-"

"RUN!"

The sound came from behind us, Antony's voice breaking the intractable silence that was hanging in the corridors. I made to turn round and look at what had happened, but Terry seized my arm and took off along the hallway, allowing no time for hesitation.

Antony and Padma's footsteps were behind us; rapid as they resounded through the air, and I felt panic rise through me as I pictured what Antony had seen that had caused him to shout. If a Carrow had seen us, they would surely be in pursuit. And we were heading straight for the Ravenclaw dormitories...

"Up here!" I said sharply, jerking Terry sideways and shoving him through a tapestry that hid a small, narrow corridor; its wooden panelled walls heavy with dust. We sprinted down it, the sound of Antony and Padma still behind us and came out along a seventh floor corridor, heavily decorated with paintings.

"I know you!" One of the paintings objects shouted after me, shoving his companion aside so he could run alongside us, "You're the freedom fighter who befouled the wall next to my portrait on the third floor!"

"Now it really not the time." I snapped, stumbling in my haste, rounding a corner sharply; Terry up ahead. The painting followed doggedly, causing a raucous in a painting full of monks as he leapt over their card table.

"Are you fighting now, missy?" He yelled, "I'm sure we all have the time to help a young intellectual such as yourself!"

"Wait, Meg," Terry gasped, grinding to a halt and turning on the painting, "Can you divert Professor Carrow?" The sound of footsteps grew louder as Antony and Padma hurried after us, rounding the corner,

"What are you doing?" Antony called hoarsely, "She's not far behind!"

"I shall do as you command my bright young sir!" The painting beamed at Terry, adjusting its hat, "Please hide yourselves over by that statue yonder. Sir Lichenstein! With me!"

I watched in amazement as the figure seized the occupant of the portrait he was currently occupying and dragged him out of his frame, reappearing in the next one, and then the next as he dashed off further along the corridor.

"Come on." Terry said hastily, grabbing me and darting over to the statue the painting had indicated; and we slotted ourselves into the space behind it; the shadows it created shielding us from sight.

All was quiet for a few moments; the only noise the rapid, suppressed breathing of the four of us. Then, heavy footsteps could be heard, and with a jolt I recognised Alecto's voice. Unconsciously, I backed further up against the wall.

"Where've the gorn?" She was howling, apparently to herself. Well, I guess she was pretty crazy. "Where did they bludgering go?"

"May I help your fair madam?" The portrait's voice cut through her ranting, and despite the situation, I fought a snort with difficulty.

"Where did they go?" Alecto roared in reply, and her footsteps stopped dangerously close to our section of the corridor. Beside me, I felt Padma stiffen.

"Where did who go, fine lady?" The painting asked in a politely curious tone,

"The damned kids who were runnin' round, of course!" She screamed, "What house were they in?" WHERE DID THEY GO?"

"There were no children around here," The portrait said patiently, and there was a dull muttering of agreement from the other paintings, "They're all in bed at this hour."

"No, they damned well aren't!" Alecto hollered, and there was a slapping sound as if she had beat her fist in frustration, "Where did they go, you little-"

"Professor Carrow, may I ask what you are doing?"

I exchanged a horrified glance with Antony as we recognised Snape's voice. Sometimes, I was fairly convinced the universe could never fail to make a situation worse.

"Snape!" Alecto exclaimed, "I was patrolling and saw four students runnin' past along a corridor, and now they've gorn and vanished and this witless idiot won't tell me where they went!"

"Madam!" The portrait roared in incredulity, "I have told you nothing but the truth!"

"You shut your mouth!"

"May I suggest we end this conversation?" Snape said icily, his quieter tone somehow cutting through the raised argument, "Did you recognise these students, Alecto?"

"No I bludgering well didn't!" Alecto's voice still carried easily to our hiding place, thick with fury, "They ran too fast, didn't they? But they were up to something, mark my words!"

"I expect you are correct. Get back to your office, before you wake the entire castle."

"Snape-"

"I said _go_."

I imagine a pretty intense scowling match was currently taking place, but soon the sound of retreating footsteps resounded in the air, and I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding, relief flooding my heart as I let my shoulders drop in brief respite. Nobody dared move until we heard Snape leaving; heading back the way he had arrived. It struck me as odd at how he had dismissed Alecto's fury, as if the fact that four students out of bed were extremely insignificant to him. Perhaps he just didn't care about such trivial things anymore. Yet it still seemed off to me.

"Let's get going," Terry said quietly in my ear, and slowly, hearts racing, we edged out from behind the statue, moving slowly in the direction of the common room.

Once at the bottom of the spiral staircase of Ravenclaw tower, we broke into a sprint, pausing only to deliver a hurried riddle answer to the disgruntled eagle, and not stopping until we were at the entrances to our dormitory doors, where we each issued a hurried 'goodnight' and legged it into our rooms.

Padma and I dived into our beds without changing, and I lay there, perfectly still; my heart still hammering in my chest, my legs feeling as if they were still pounding the floor, until I finally began to relax, slowly grasping that we had got away with it.

That had been _close_. Way too close.

I didn't want to even think about what could have happened if we had been caught, what with all the suspicions floating around after today. I wasn't exactly doing myself any favours, with the way I had already proved to the Carrows I was one to watch out for.

But as I lay there, the blood still pounding in my brain as I tried to focus on calming things, like the black stretch of my four poster bed above me, or the strip of white moonlight falling across the bed sheet, I decided that what we were doing was worth the risk. Even talking back to the Carrows paid off in some ways. It showed them that there was always going to be someone who would stand up to them, and if there was one person, I felt confident that more would follow. Just look at the DA.

I shifted in bed, worming further under the duvet as I turned to look out at the view of the lake, smiling as I watched the surface glinting in the moonlight.

We had escaped from right under the nose of Alecto Carrow. And in that courtyard I had seen just how many people were against the Carrows.

And Malfoy thought that spending time with me was his solution to the misery plaguing his life.

Out of all the successes of today, I decided, as my eyelids finally closed; that was definitely the crowning achievement.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! They really make me so happy...keep 'em coming my friends ;)**

**Booked tickets for the Harry Potter tour at Warner Bros. Studios on Harry's birthday no less xD Wooop woopwoop wooop.**

**And you're very welcome for that random snippet of my life. **

**And I use the term 'life' loosely :B**

**Wherein I become a bad influence and pretend it wasn't me.**

The repercussions of what had happened in the courtyard and no doubt our close shave with Alecto after the DA meeting didn't become apparent until Saturday morning, when, bleary eyed and yawning, I stumbled down into the common room, to find an unusually large crowd gathering around the notice board.

"What are we looking at?" I asked Michael Corner once I had edged closer, standing on tip toes to try and see over the heads of a cluster of sixth years. He shrugged, but there was a dark look on his face that told me he wasn't expecting good news.

He was completely right.

When we got closer to the notice board, I saw that plastered over the top of the school rules that I usually graffitied with my own creative additions (that usually included mature content such as 'all Slytherins must be hexed when come into contact with,' which I had to admit had been rather amended this year) was a new, menacing-looking notice, its contents printed in thick, black lettering.

_BY ORDER OF THE HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS_

_All students will report to the Great Hall at five o'clock this evening._

_Any student failing to present themselves shall be punished._

_Any student arriving late for the designated time shall be punished. _

_Signed: Professor Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts _

"I think," I said darkly once I had made out the lettering, "That it's time I invested in a watch that actually works."

"They can't _do_ this!" Michael said angrily, pummelling a fist into his palm, "How can they do this?"

I didn't have anything to say to that, not that I thought Michael was expecting a reply from me. He sounded furious, and I was preoccupied with the hollow feeling in my stomach, that I had learned to associate with any bad news about the goings on at Hogwarts nowadays.

I turned around to see Terry jumping the last step to the boy's dormitories, wrapping his cloak further around him and catching sight of our faces. He made as if to ask what was wrong, and instead, being Terry, caught sight of the notice board and lowered his brows. When he had finished reading, he pursed his lips in a tight line.

"Come on," He muttered, to Michael and I, "Let's go to breakfast."

By the time we were passing through the first floor corridors, Michael had finally stopped punching his own fist, which I took as a good sign.

"It's just so _unfair_." He grated, and I was met with a vocal projection of the things that passed through my own mind so often. "How can anything we do make a difference with things like _that_ happening?"

"Things we do won't make a difference." Terry said unflinchingly, and we both turned to stare at him, "How can it? But what we are doing is making life as difficult as possible for them, so I'm happy."

"Easy for you to say, Terry," I said with a playful smirk, "You haven't vandalised a wall yet."

"Give me a quill then."

"I...what?" That sentence seemed to drop out of nowhere, and I stood staring at him, my mouth hanging open rather stupidly.

"Give me something to write with." Terry continued patiently, stepping back to examine a stretch of wall in the corridor. I still had trouble processing this.

"I..."

Terry shook his head, and drew his wand, seemingly trying to hide the fact that he was grinning broadly,

"Honestly, Meg," He sighed in mock disappointment, "I thought you were the expert on this kind of thing."

Michael and I exchanged panicked glances as Terry stepped towards the wall, and waved his wand as if he were conducting an orchestra. Words began to engrave themselves into the wall; as if an invisible hand were carving them there. I shook my head in decided amusement at the neat, clearly legible handwriting that could only belong to Terry. I was glad neither of the Carrows set essays. I think it would be a little too easy to track him down.

When he stepped back, I peered at the words he had shaped, and let out a snort.

_We'd really prefer it if the Carrows got lost please._

"Well that's formal." Michael commented, as if there was nothing else to be said about it.

"Could you be," I said slowly, fighting back giggles as Terry looked at me impressively, "Any more like yourself?"

"Ahaaaa!"

The noise made all three of us jump wildly, and we spun round to see Peeves swooping down from the ceiling, his wide, grinning face alight as he took in our guilty faces,

"Befouling property you are," He sniggered heartily, "Causing strife and trouble!"

"Peeves," I muttered, wincing at how close to the staff room we were, "Shut _up,_"

"Naughty seventh years!" Peeves cackled, and then for a moment he fell quiet, flipping upside-down as if thinking intently as he took in the lettering.

"You're doing it wrong" He finally said.

The three of us stared at him incredulously, and not for the first time in the past few minutes, I questioned the quality of my hearing. Yet before any of us could do anything, Peeves swooped across; seized Terry's school bag and emptied the contents onto the floor.

"Oi!" Terry said in annoyance, stepping forwards as Peeves grabbed a ruler and zoomed towards the wall where Terry's message stood.

There was a horrible succession of grating and scraping noises, and with a triumphant raspberry, Peeves whooshed away, not before lobbing the ruler at Terry's head. I glanced back at the wall, and saw with surprise that Peeves had engraved the words so that they were deep and clear. I was sure that if I stood at the end of the corridor, I would still be able to make it out.

"It's probably time to get out of here." I suggested lightly, moving on from that rather unexpected occurence.

Terry cast one short, aghast look at the wall before moving off with me, as if he had only just realised exactly what he had done.

"Now I know why you weren't made the Ravenclaw prefect," I sniggered as we walked swiftly over a still heavily blanketed courtyard. The white sky ahead seemed to hint at another snowfall yet to come.

"I'll just put it down to your bad influence." Terry replied with a shy grin, at which point I was distracted by a particularly fluffy snow bank.

"I'll have you know no teacher has ever told me I'm a bad influence," I threw back to Terry over my shoulder, crouching down and scooping up a handful of snow, "Which I suppose is something."

"Erm, what are you doing?" Just audible under Terry's question, there was the faint sound of Michael's stomach rumbling.

"Can we go to breakfast now?" He mumbled quietly.

"Every year I always miss the great snowball fights in the corridor," I said, ignoring Michael and patting the roughly made ball of snow happily, "Now this year I can finally have something to chuck at people aside from Charms homework and Professor Binn's next essay." I got to my feet and held it out to Terry expectantly, "Can you do that freezy spell please?"

"Meg, you're seventh year now," Terry said tiredly, "Surely you can do the 'freezy spell' now?"

"Nope."

"Fine." He said with a resigned sigh, taking out his wand, "_Glacius_."

We were so prolonged to breakfast that a lot of the students were heading off when we finally got there. Terry hurried off ahead of me with Michael leading. Michael was probably hungry. Terry more likely wanted to be on time to lessons so as to realign the balance of nature.

I was about three steps towards them when Pansy Parkinson's voice cut through to my ears.

"Hey, Forester!"

Everything, from her smug face, to the sniggering Slytherins next to her, made my hackles rise, but I forced a look of neutrality onto my face, raising an eyebrow as I turned to face her,

"May I help you?" I asked mockingly, more to just get the first word in. My stomach did a little somersault as I saw Malfoy look up from his toast, fixing his eyes on us.

"I heard it was _you_ who set those fireworks in the courtyard off," Pansy said loudly, not bothering to keep her voice from carrying around the hall. A few curious faces turned our way. I allowed a brief moment of gratitude that no Carrow was present.

"Well, I can name one person who can vouch for me." I replied, unable to stop the small grin flitting onto my lips as my eyes skipped over to Malfoy of their own accord. He smirked back.

Pansy looked momentarily sidetracked, as if confused. Which, given that I didn't look the remotest bit worried; and that she was thicker than a concussed troll, she probably was.

"Was there anything else?" I asked her curtly, "Only I need to have breakfast now."

Her brows lowered dangerously, and I was forcibly reminded of the time when we had begun a hexing match in the corridor.

"Maybe I'll tell Professor Carrow just who did it!" She screeched, and I looked at her, forcing as much sympathy and belittle into my gaze. It didn't quite hide the sudden rage that had flared inside me at her words; that would so easily wound me if she carried out her threat. I couldn't believe someone could be so bitter, or so cruel; or make a joke out of it. Which she did, as, smirking, she turned to look at Draco, as if to include him in on the joke. I barely registered the frosty look she received from him, and instead found myself hating Pansy, in a venomous way I never really had before.

And that, if anything, caused what happened next.

I didn't really mean to hurl my snowball in her face. It just kind of happened. I suppose I had never really got her back for the things she had told the Snatchers, and there was no pretending that I was rather lacking in self-restraint.

Either way, the smack of snowball impacting on her skin was the most satisfying sound I had ever heard.

I almost regretted it about five seconds afterwards, wondering if I had been a little harsh, or at least sunk to her level. I flicked a nervous glance in Malfoy's direction, and saw he looked torn between looking unsurprised, and a little amused. Given that he used to get his kicks by pretending to be a dementor; or simply giving other people misery, it further enforced the idea that what I had done was a little mean.

Therefore, abandoning all courage in facing the consequences, I darted off into the crowd before Pansy had any time to retaliate.

Shoving people aside and causing a general flow of mutters of irritation and anger, I had almost made it to the Ravenclaw table when I was intercepted by such an enormous figure it was a wonder I didn't see him coming.

"Hi Hagrid." I said distractedly, wondering whether he was completely oblivious to the fact I was clearly making a quick getaway.

"Though yer might like ter get him back as quickly as possible." Hagrid said gruffly, and for a second I was completely lost until he held up the tiny sleeping owl that had been eclipsed by the giant holding him, "What with the racket you made every day of last week trying ter see him."

"Sampson!" I exclaimed in delight, causing the little owl to wake up and ruffle his wings; blinking at me curiously. "Is he ok?"

"Now he is." Hagrid replied, "You just watch out for him."

He looked as if he wanted to say something else, and rembering of my trepidation for whatever he had been planning, I swiftly thanked him and hurried off. For once in my life, I really had had enough trouble for one day.

I was, however, seriously considering amending this line of thought by the time the hour for Muggle Studies came around. It was only Terry supplicating that Alecto would almost definitely notice and therefore hunt me for the rest of my days that made me go with him and Antony. In an extremely bad mood.

As was the usual manner of getting through Muggle Studies, I switched my brain off the second Alecto entered the classroom; settling for keeping a mildly disgusted expression on my face. The only way I could really think of rebelling without having a curse thrown at me again.

As expected, Alecto droned on once more about the savagery and stupidity of Muggles, her small, piggy eyes alight with malice. It was a wonder that she had enough material to get us through the school year.

I was just debating at how provoking it would be to close my eyelids when Terry shoved something towards me. Incredulously, I looked at him, wondering if he was implying I should be following the lesson. Then, yawning unobtrusively, Terry delicately scrawled a sentence on the blank parchment he had in front of him, acting as if he were simply taking notes on Alecto's rant about Muggles being filth.

_This came at breakfast. I think you should read it._

I was still questioning Terry's sanity until my eyes grazed the writing again, and I saw that it actually wasn't a textbook that I was reading.

I had seen this trick before in our fifth year; this exceptionally sneaky way of reading things you weren't supposed to by enchanting the contents to look like pages from a textbook or piece of parchment. The page before me looked like an innocent chapter from _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_, which had so far been left untouched this year, but on closer examination, I saw it was in fact an article from _The_ _Quibbler_ that Terry must have enchanted at breakfast whilst I was busy waging a snowball war. My eyes hovered over the title, and I had the sudden feeling I had missed a flight of stairs.

_DEATH EATERS SIGHTED IN WEST COUNTRY: POTTER CONTINUES TO RUN_

_A report has confirmed that yesterday afternoon, two eyewitnesses sighted The Boy Who Lived. As Muggles, and believing him to be a wanted criminal, they called the Muggle hotline with a telephone (a peculiarly shaped instrument Muggles use for communicating). Shortly afterwards, it has been reported that there was Death Eater activity in the area, although an eyewitness has stated that Potter was gone long before any Death Eaters appeared at the scene. _

_Whilst it is logical that Potter will not be returning to the area, it is advisable that residents remain vigilant, as Death Eaters will no doubt be combing the area for the days to come._

_Turn overleaf for advice on how to stay protected, with and interview with Mrs. Loltern and how her collection of garden flamingos saved her life. _

The West Country. Sure, it was a long shot, but in the West Country stood Braxton-On-Sea; within it my mother. I knew it was ridiculous, but an irrational fear rose inside me. She wasn't particularly vigilant, and didn't take much seriously. In short, she was just like me.

And that's why I was worried.

Terry was watching me, and I realised making me anxious hadn't been his intention at all. I dragged my eyes through the article again, and realised that this was about Harry and his escape yet again from the clutched of the Dark Lord.

I forced a small grin onto my face as I flicked him a glance, luckily not needing to go any further with Alecto at the front of the class.

"-And so Muggles drove us in to hiding, and we need to return things to how they used to be-"

Used to be.

My pensive mind went, as it so often did nowadays, back in time; to linger on the old days where the only thing plaguing my mind was Potions with Snape and being made to play Quidditch against my will. Those days were things seemed to smooth and complete; sweet even.

Now, it was like I had moved to a completely different world. A world where it was ok for a monster like Alecto to stand here and leak poisonous thoughts to us; a world where murders and disappearances were as common as the day and night, and a world where living in fear was as common as being happy used to be. And that made me feel like, at any second, I was going to crumble.

Across the classroom, my eyes fell on Malfoy looking dully down at his hands, evidently not listening to a word Alecto was saying. Almost as if my gaze burned him, he looked up. Slowly, as his eyes lit on mine, his lips drifted into a smile.

That was one thing that the 'used to be' never had, I thought, as I smiled back. And in some ways, it made it severely lacking. And that, I decided, alongside my two best friends and my family, was the thing that was keeping me from crumbling.

And perhaps, one day, I could get the old days restored to me; this time intact with the boy who was smiling at me now, and the only fear of crumbling would be from too much happiness.

And wow, did I like the sound of that.

The word subdued didn't quite cut it for describing the atmosphere of the crowd of students making their way to the Great Hall at five o'clock that evening. After the last time, it wasn't as if anyone was expecting good news, and as we filed into the hall; under the careful watch of the Carrows and were sorted once again into the lines of seven, I tried to fix my mind on that distant dream I had created for myself in Muggle Studies; so as to block out the view of Snape standing on the steps before the staff table, his gaze vacant of any expression, spare that constantly cold gaze that I could only associate with him.

"There has been a general lack of...obedience in the school of late." Snape hissed the minute the doors to the Great Hall had been closed. He didn't need to call for quiet; it was already so still. At his words, unbridled and uncontrollable, I accidentally let out a snort. It had obviously been a bit too loud, as several heads turned my way. I hastened to look round too.

"Perhaps I didn't make clear what happens to rule breakers in this school," Snape continued in that same, soft voice, "Because disturbances like vandalism and the scene caused in the Entrance Courtyard will _not_ be tolerated."

He was met with a stony, and fearful silence. I tried immensely hard not to look guilty, hoping that Snape had forgotten about the time when he had caught me for vandalising. I had to say I preferred the term 'redecorating'.

"How 'bout we show what happens when rules are broken?" Alecto tittered, stepping forwards from where she had been standing beside her leering sibling, elbowing Snape as if she was trying to share a joke. Snape's brows lowered.

"An example." Amycus agreed, his eyes sweeping the group of students assembled before him. I slowly bent my knees, hoping to disappear behind the students in front of me. Beside me, Terry tensed.

"You will _not_ hurt these students!"

The shrill voice cut across Amycus's twisted suggestion, and we all spun round to see McGonagall, pale-faced and looking more dangerous than I had ever seen her. Even when she had caused Alecto to slam into a bookcase. Those were the days.

Alecto started to laugh, a high-pitched, and downright insane laugh. It could almost have been funny if it hadn't echoed round the hall in an unexplainably unnerving manner. As she did so, she drew her wand; and I think, involuntarily, the majority of the student body winced.

The laughter cut off abruptly when she was met with three brandished wands in her direction.

Professors Sprout, McGonagall and Flitwick had all stepped forwards, and, after a few seconds of shocked silence, the room exploded with noise.

"You DARE!" Amycus bellowed, his pig-like face alive with fury, as he too seized his wand, "How da-"

"You put your wands away!" Professor Flitwick squeaked; his high-pitched voice ringing through the hall, "Now!"

"Scum!" Alecto screeched, her eyes popping, "Stupef-"

"_Silence._"

There was a bang like a gunshot, and I leapt a foot in the air. There was a clattering as six pairs of wands fell to the floor; dislodged from their masters hands.

Snape lowered his wand, his black eyes glittering as they swept over the assembled teachers. And then drifted to the pale faced students glaring back at him.

"Need I remind you," He said icily, "That this is a _school_."

"It's very hard to tell sometimes." McGonagall said curtly, her hands shaking with fury.

"I've been watchin' you ever since you interfered with _her_!" Alecto snarled, cutting across any comment Snape may have had, pointing a stubby finger in my direction, which made my stomach leap. People turned to look at who she had indicated. Feigning curiosity, I turned around once again. "You had better watch your step Minerva McGonagall."

"How very sophisticated." McGonagall replied dryly, not looking the least but phased at the poorly disguised threat, "And I shall tell you that it is you who should watch their step; particularly with their teaching methods."

Alecto made as if to pick up her wand, but Snape cut across her,

"Stand still." He hissed, his wand hand twitching threateningly. "Do I have to remind you, Alecto, that I have been placed in charge?"

I couldn't choose whether this squabbling was amusing or not, and after taking in Professor Sprout's expression I came to the decision that it most definitely wasn't.

I could make out that same look that she wore was in the eyes of the people around me, and hell, probably in my expression too. There was a fear there; and despite the teachers' actions now, there was only so much they could do. The Carrows could only be pushed so far. That look made my heart sink, that crippling threat of losing hope pressing down on me. It seemed like everything that we had had to resist with was being stripped from us; our DA meetings, our teachers' defiance.

Out of nowhere, my mind shoved me back to that memory of telling Malfoy not to give up; because how could that make a difference? And suddenly there it was; that little light glowing inside of me, small and timid, but a light all the same. Malfoy.

Snape looked across in time to see me smirk. And unless I was very much mistaken, he didn't seem to particularly care.


	18. Chapter 18

**I got way too excited for Christmas in this chapter. Me and my sister have already concocted the idea of a HP marathon on boxing day. 19 hours of not moving. With chocolate. Maybe the babe of a Malfoy poster will be taken down to join in. Oh yes****.**

**Thanks again for all the reviews! They really do make my day :)**

**Wherein the benches are higher than I thought, and karma gets back to me on the uniform stealing.**

As the snow fell, heavier and thicker towards the end of November, the countdown to Christmas had well and truly begun. It seemed that the teachers, rebelling in the only safe way they could, had seemed to have pulled out all the stops where Christmas was concerned.

This year, enchanted icicles hung from arches in the ceiling, or from the many banisters in the Grand Staircases. Holly and mistletoe hung around the hallways, somehow, despite everything, still managing to attract the girls who would giggle below it, clogging up the corridor.

Even in the Great Hall, tradition had held. The twelve Christmas trees were more present than ever; as I was sure that Hagrid had brought extra large ones in just to undermine the Carrows. In their places in the hall, they glittered with enchanted snow, or with gold baubles in the shape of owls that hooted softly when you got too close; the strong scent of pine filling the air.

On top of this, the suits of armour were given carol books, and reminiscent of our fourth year, would sing carols whenever they saw a student passing. Nostalgia for the fourth year also came through Peeves resuming his habit of sneaking into them and conducting his own version of _Silent Night_, which I had to say I found much more enjoyable, if slightly less family friendly.

One morning, I passed Alecto trying to curse down one of the clusters of icicles that hung on the banisters on the fifth floor. Much to my amusement, no spell she cast could evaporate them, and led me to the strong suspicion that someone like McGongall had found a way to make them permanent for as long as they wanted them there. I was forcibly reminded of the fireworks in the fifth year that had given Professor Umbridge hell.

It was a Friday evening when I sat at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, alone besides a handful of other students scattered throughout the different tables; chatting quietly. Terry and Antony had gone to the library to work; something I had no intention of following them in. At it the end of dinner, most of the students had left for their common rooms; safe from any possibility of running into the Carrows, but I was content to stay here for as long as I could; the Christmas surroundings somehow soothing for me. So here I sat, kind of hypnotised by the dancing flames in one of the grates by the wall; framed by a thick wreath of holly, red and gold glinting amongst the rich green hues. Beside me, one of the owls in the trees was fluttering its wings; its many companions so brightly lit the tree looked like a constellation of stars had fallen on it. No other sources of light were in the hall, spare the darkening sky outside, which fresh snow was falling from. With no sign of any Death Eaters in the room, I was casting my mind back once again to earlier years when this time was well and truly perfect; the buzz of Christmas creating a constant thrum of excitement in my chest. I could almost believe I was a first year once again, experiencing the resplendent decorations for the first time, looking up at the transparent ceiling and wondering just how those snowflakes never reached me. I realised I was getting a bit sentimental, but was still unable to pull my eyes from the fireplace, my hand resting underneath my chin, the other playing with the strands of my ponytail.

"Now that's a sight I never thought I would see, Forester."

Before I could blink, Draco Malfoy slid down onto the seat beside me, a smile on his face that was leaning towards a smirk, drumming his fingertips on the glossy table that was glowing orange, reflecting the candles scattered throughout the air.

"What's that?" I asked, coming out of my trance abruptly and pulling myself back to reality.

"Sitting quietly alone. It's a rare thing."

"Not when you're not around. I just go out of my way to annoy you as much as possible when you enter a room."

"Ah." He said, his eyes glittering, "Well that will be it then."

"Hang on!" I exclaimed, causing a few of the students still in the Hall to look round at me, "You're sitting at the Ravenclaw table!"

"Wasn't aware it was illegal, Forester."

"I'm pretty sure that there's a rule somewhere that indicates you'll be incinerated if you stay here." I told him seriously, reaching for my cup of pumpkin juice.

"I'll take my chances."

I snorted, nearly choking on the drink I had foolishly deemed safe to take a swig of.

"Well it's not like you had the whole hall to choose from or anything," I commented, setting the glass sown and waving an indicating arm at the deserted tables. Whilst doing so, my hand caught one of the golden baubles so precariously placed on the Christmas tree, and it fell to the ground; bringing with it a few more decorations.

Malfoy shot me a pained look, one that forcibly reminded me of that face he pulled whenever I had successfully irritated him last year. Trying to keep a straight face, I leant backwards to try and pick it up without leaving my seat.

"I thought you were joking about only being noisy when I was around." Draco murmured, watching me with a veiled expression, "But I think for once you may have been serious."

"Severity comes from me far more than people think." I replied, stretching my fingers out towards the golden bauble that was glittering happily in the candlelight. I should have seen what was coming a second before it did.

I misjudged my body weight and slowly felt myself falling, and found myself with only one reason to be disgruntled; that stemmed from the fact that Malfoy was going to see and would probably be laughing about it for a very long time. And I'd just been congratulating myself that I hadn't done something stupid in a while.

Malfoy's hand grabbed my arm; one brisk movement that really seemed rather effortless. It was with a tired expression that he pulled me back to the safety of the table.

"It's a wonder you don't fall over more." He muttered. I was a little too taken aback to comment for a moment.

"Urm...thanks." I finally muttered lamely. I looked across at him to see a small smile had broken his face as he watched me. It disarmed me in a way I wasn't aware it could.

I was luckily saved any response by the doors to the hall opening and Alecto walking in; her perpetual scowl giving me no desire to stay here anymore; the light atmosphere we had created dissolving instantly.

"Let's go." I muttered, pulling Malfoy to his feet.

"And where are we going?" Malfoy asked as we cut past Alecto; giving her a wide berth. My official answer was 'anywhere but here', but I didn't bother replying, instead leading him silently from the hall and towards the Grand Staircase.

As we drew nearer the staircases, music drifted up from one of the suits of armour that was adorned with tinsel and holly; and, having just about had enough of the tinny renditions of Christmas songs, I turned to Malfoy, finding my voice.

"What are you going to do at Christmas, Draco?" I asked softly, stepping aside to let a few people run past; evidently escaping the now Carrow-occupied hall. It also let Malfoy have time to take in my worried expression, and for me to regret asking it as his face became downcast.

"I'm assuming it will be a rather extensive family Christmas," He said gloomily, slamming the visor of the armour down; cutting off its failing attempt at 'O Little Town Of Bethlehem.' I couldn't say I was sorry.

"Can't you stay here?" I pondered, and then caught the mildly demeaning glance he gave me.

"Because the company would be so much better?"

"Hmmm." I agreed, remembering the Carrows, and beginning the climb up the staircases, my body on automatic as I headed towards the upper floors. Malfoy unquestioningly followed me; evidently with no better place to led us to. Perhaps we should find the world's most whiny statue instead. "How about-"

"I'd take anywhere else, Forester. But I can't."

"I really hate it when you use that word." I said moodily, thinking of last year, "It's so defeatist."

"It appears I am in some cases."

I turned round, midway up the staircase to the third floor to give him a twisted smile,

"Do I have to hit you?"

Despite his dejected expression, a smirk suddenly wriggled its way onto Malfoy's face.

"It hurt the last time, so no thank you."

I left my thoughts on his sullen attitude there and resumed heading up the staircases, yet I was pulled to a halt as Malfoy's hand caught mine; pulling me gently towards him. I was still a little unused to his skin coming into contact with mine so unexpectedly, and it took me a while to catch up with the words he was saying in husky tones.

"But if you had been in my place last year," He said quietly, "What would you have done Meg?"

He didn't say it as a challenge, or as a declaration. He seemed to genuinely want to know how it could have been different; how he could have changed this disastrous outcome.

And I really didn't have an answer.

"I understand why you did what you did." I murmured, not meeting his eyes, "You felt you had to do it. But you should have gone to Dumbledore-"

"He knew."

"What?" I asked, completely taken aback; looking with astonishment into his impassive expression.

"He knew. That night, before..." He trailed off, and I didn't have to think particularly hard to remember the night he meant. He shrugged and tried again, "He said he had known."

"Why didn't he do anything?" I asked in a hushed voice, trying to force my mind around this. Malfoy looked at me a moment, before shaking his head slightly in admittance.

"I don't know."

I stood blankly for such a long time that it was Draco who began to pull me back up the stairs in the end, his touch the only thing that really geared me back to life.

We trod the route to the Ravenclaw tower in silence; blind to the garlands of holly and small glowing fairy lights that adorned the hallways and doors; my thoughts trying to make sense of what Malfoy had just revealed.

I couldn't believe that Dumbledore had known what Malfoy had been forced to go through, and had sat back and let it happened. It would have been cruel beyond measure; not that he had seen Malfoy crying in the Room of Requirement, afraid of failing for the results it would bring. But I had seen it. And to think Dumbledore could turn his back on something like that filled me with an unexplainable anger.

I wondered where this sudden protective streak was coming from.

The eagle knocker seemed to look mildly surprised to see me with someone who wasn't Terry or Antony, and I realised it was probably a little rare. Sometimes, I was fairly sure I was the polar opposite of my sister.

"You realise _he_ can't come in here?" It asked stiffly, looking over at Malfoy with something close to dislike; ruffling its metal feathers. It would seem house pride stretched as far as door knockers.

"Oh." I said, for some reason not really having considered this as I had led Draco through the castle. Beside me, a suit of armour began to rattle with apparent laughter, before bursting into a chorus of 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs.'

"I suppose you want a riddle then?" The eagle sighed, and considering it had apparently been putting up with armour Christmas carols all day, I thought it had retained its temper remarkably well.

"Urm..." I trailed off, casting an uncertain look of Malfoy. He was looking rather amused at the noise that had suddenly been created.

The eagle cleared its throat, sending the armour a glare before rearing its wings impressively,

"Twelve Santa Claus's fall down the chimney. How many sooty footprints are there going to be?"

I looked at it blankly for a few moments, than let a grin break my face,

"Is this a trick question?"

Judging from how cantankerous the eagle looked, I had a feeling it wasn't.

"Sadly not." It signed tiredly, "I was told to get into the 'festive cheer.'"

"Is this your way of taking a stand against Death Eaters in our castle?" I asked it, not bothering to hide my sniggers now, "Giving us easy riddles?"

"I hope you get it wrong so I can lock you out." The eagle muttered, tucking its wings up again in irritation.

"Well I'll settle for saying 'twenty four.'"

"Congratulations." It said acerbically, "You clearly are a true Ravenclaw."

I turned to say goodnight to Malfoy, my eyes still fixed on the eagle with triumph, when Malfoy got there first, closing the space between us and catching me completely off guard as his arms closed around me.

There was a fierceness in the way he kissed me that made me wonder if he was actually making up for all the years we hadn't been kissing. Not that I really minded. At all.

It wasn't really the most romantic setting either, with the eagle making irritable noises at us, and at the suit of armour that was still doggedly singing to the best of its ability; which was really not at a very high standard. But I couldn't have cared less as I wound my arms around him in reply, a strange warmth flooding over me from the contact.

When he broke away I accidentally let out a small squeak of protest, which made that smirk he so constantly wore spring into existence once again. I did have to say I really preferred it to that disconsolate look he had sometimes.

To resist the temptation of kissing him once more when I really had to concentrate, I folded my arms, providing some form of barrier between us as I looked up towards his face; leaning forwards despite myself,

"Just promise me," I said quietly, "That you'll look after yourself."

His smirk turned in to a genuine grin and I mentally congratulated myself.

"I will if you do."

I didn't have much else to say to that, but later, as I was pulling off my socks whilst Sampson flitted around my bed hangings, hooting softly, I wondered if Malfoy knew just how hard it was for me to behave. Either he had told a very subtle joke, or he had struck a bargain.

Either way, it seemed his sense of humour was a little twisted.

The smoke from the train was making me cough, but I had always liked the heavy, acrid smell; especially now, now that it was taking me away from the castle that had so rapidly been warped and changed in the course of the past few months.

It seemed every other student had the same line of thought; the platform was heaving with people; all shouting over the shrieks of owls and clattering of cases that were hurriedly being wheeled in the direction of the luggage compartments.

The rather dramatic meeting Snape had called had been received with a mixture of opinions. For some, they behaved; scurrying past the Carrows with heads bowed, but, judging from the many snowmen that kept appearing, bearing uncanny resemblances to certain Death Eaters, I had a feeling there were still some who weren't going to sit quietly. I tried not to feel too smug.

"They're a bit eager," Antony commented as he was shoved aside by a few rather burly fifth years.

"Maybe the Carrows think it was them who made that Alecto snowman." I suggested lightly, trying to keep Sampson on my shoulder as he shivered with excitement at the prospect of a train ride. Antony flushed guiltily.

Before I could get any further, my scarf tightened, someone behind me tugging at it. I let out a squawk and stumbled backwards, shoved from my place beside Terry and Antony, who, much to my annoyance, didn't seem to notice I'd gone. Before I could do anything about it, the surge of people trying to get onto the train filled the space ahead of me, and my two friends were swallowed from sight.

Irritated, I spun round to meet my assailant.

"That look would stop a Hippogriff charging." Malfoy commented, giving me a self-satisfied smirk as he kept a hold on the tips of my scarf, ignoring a few curious first years glancing our way.

"You would know." I tried to assume an irritated look, but it had kind of failed the moment I had taken in his expression, "Any particular reason you're trying to strangle me?"

Draco answered by tugging the scarf from my neck completely.

"What are you doing?" I squawked, making a lunge for it rather fruitlessly. I made a mental note to find a potion that added several feet to my height.

"Incentive," Draco smirked, as the first years started giggling, "Now you have to see me over Christmas."

"What went so wrong in your childhood that you couldn't simply ask me?" I muttered, and he responded by leaning down so that his lips were centimetres from my ear, the sudden close proximity startling me.

"Please write." He whispered.

The train's whistle blew keenly over any response I could have mustered, had I caught my breath, and instead I answered by determinedly pressing a kiss to his cheek. Although I ruined it slightly by using the closeness to try and grab the scarf.

"No, Forester." Malfoy smirked, raising it out of reach, "Now you're going the whole year without it."

"You're so annoying." I grumbled, to which he responded by raising his eyebrows smugly, the smirk still in place as he moved off towards the train; leaving Sampson to give a squawk which wrenched my eyes from Malfoy's departing figure.

"Right." I muttered, "Let's go and put you with the other owls."

It turned out that the last thing Sampson wanted to do was be put with the other owls, who looked like they would rather fly to London that share a compartment with him, so it was me and the little owl that found Terry and Antony in a compartment with the majority of the DA a few minutes later.

"Don't let him near the Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Was Neville's way of greeting, as he gestured to one of the ugliest plants I had ever seen. It looked more like a bunch of unwashed potatoes covered in thistles. I left it uncommented.

The train finally pulling out of the station brought a relief to me that I hated as I leant back against the chequered seat, stroking Sampson's feathers idly. Here, I finally felt reasonably safe, for the first time in a while. I was out of the clutches of the Carrows for three weeks, and I was going to my Muggle town; hidden away from the chaos reigning in the wizarding world. Hopefully, anyway.

It was gone noon when I got up to walk through the train. I had let Sampson out into the corridor to stretch his wings, and given from the shrieks we could distantly hear, it seemed he was having a good time.

Dodging the lunch trolley, and muttering about cute little owls, I headed past what could only be the Slytherin compartment. I knew this as five seconds after walking past it, a Stinging Hex hit me in the back of the head.

"OW!" I shrieked loudly, abandoning all dignity as I stumbled forwards, one hand whipping to my head, which was throbbing, and the other to my wand.

I spun round to see Pansy, laughing as she leant at the entrance to one of the train's compartments, and did a quick rethink about the safety of the train.

"How brave." I snapped, trying to remember that spell that gave people antlers. Antony was now typically far away. "Do you want to try that again?"

Unfortunately, I had been banking on her _not_ wanting to try that again. I had not expected her to brandish her wand, and scream "_Tarantellegra!_"

I dodged the jet of light that was rushing my way, ducking to the floor and trying not to lose my temper. After all, perhaps this made us even now.

Or at least it did until she hit me with a knee-reversal hex.

"_Steleus_!" I yelled, which ceased her laughing temporarily, as she became overcome with a violent sneezing fit. Trying to work out how to get to my feet, which was suddenly a lot more confusing with my legs bending the wrong way, I was blasted off my feet again by a gust of wind shot from Pansy's wand. Completely unamused, I finally remembered the spell Antony had cast that day outside Defence Against the Dark Arts,

"_Anteoculatia!_"

I had to say the antlers that sprouted on her head weren't quite as magnificent as the ones Antony had summoned had been. But considering it caused her to shriek in horror and dive back into her compartment, I figured I had done rather well.

I finally managed to clamber to my feet and stagger over to the wall; the juddering of the moving train not really helping matters. A few people were leaning out their compartments at the noise we had been making, and I tried to look as nonchalant as possible.

I'm not sure how, but I found myself leaning against the Slytherin compartment, and, taken over by a bout of wickedness, I peered in to grin at Pansy, taking brief satisfaction in the fact that Malfoy was not there.

"That's the spell Antony cast when you freaked out about me having Draco's tie," I told her conversationally, "I still have it you know. He's perfectly happy about it."

Quite how I managed to sprint away so quickly whilst feeling so disorientated was anyone's guess, but I soon slammed into the door to where Antony and Terry were sitting; making them jump from where they were pouring over a copy of the _Quibbler_.

"Oh, Meg." Terry said tiredly, the second he caught sight of me once I had opened the sliding door.

"It wasn't my fault." I said stiffly, as I sank awkwardly onto the seat, holding my legs out in front of me, "I was just walking, minding my own business."

"Cool!" Antony said enthusiastically, as Terry took out his wand and muttered the counter curse, returning me the use of my kneecaps.

There was a bang like a gunshot and the train screeched to a halt. I slipped forwards from my seat to crumple on the floor; loud thuds and crashes as luggage fell with me along the train. A few people screamed. I had a horrible sense of déjà vu.

"Not again," Antony said, his face suddenly very pale.

"It could be-" Luna began, but she was cut off as figure appeared at the compartment door, looming and tall. His black clothing sent a chill to my heart.

I staggered to my feet just as he flicked his wand and the door crashed open; the glass cracking at the impact.

"I found 'er." He said to an unseen figure, his eyes skimming somewhere past my shoulder. He stepped forwards, and with one swift movement battered me aside roughly. I slammed into the wall of the compartment, grazing my arm.

A voice screamed in protest, and there was a hoarse cry of indignation. I looked up to see the Death Eater dragging Luna forwards; his wand pointing at her threateningly.

"Don't you dare." He growled at Neville, who was starting forwards. "I'll blast her apart if you move."

With that, he hauled her out the compartment, and the second he was out in the corridor Neville sparked to life.

"Luna!" He shouted, leaping to his feet. I followed suit as he shot out into the corridor. But he was too late. With a crack like a whip, the Death Eater vanished; his dark clothes curling round like twists of smoke; Luna's bright hair whipping upwards, and vanishing.

The silence that they left behind in the carriage was heavy with disbelief.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey y'all! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter...I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story still! **

**Sorry to be a bit of a killjoy in this one ;) **

**Such a teeeaaase...**

**Wherein Sampson has his work cut out and apparition gets a lot of practice.**

"It must have been for what her father was writing in the _Quibbler_."

Terry's voice cut through my dazed mind; the clattering of the train on the tracks having taken over once again. Everything seemed oddly far away after what had just happened; the blur of towns rushing by outside the window; grey and washed out in the winter air; almost unnoticeable.

Shock ebbed at the edges of my senses, seeing the flash of Luna's hair over and over again as she vanished from sight. How had this happened? I had thought we were safe. The disbelief and fear at what we had just seen was palpable in the compartment, and by the time the train drew in at King's Cross in the late afternoon, I had accepted that nowhere was safe, not now. Even at Braxton-On-Sea, I was in danger.

"What will happen to her?" I asked quietly as we all stood up, reaching for our luggage. It was a pointless question. It wasn't like anyone else knew.

"She'll be fine." Terry said quickly, not that anyone believed him.

I had never seen at atmosphere more despondent as the normal jostle to leave the train began. It seemed the news had travelled, and everywhere faces were drawn, and voices lowered.

My mum gave me such a tight hug when I arrived on the platform that I had a feeling she may have broken a few ribs when we finally drew apart.

"Blimey." I commented feebly as Jade came over, dragging her case and waving a goodbye to some of her friends, "Didn't realise you missed me that much,"

"I'm just glad you're safe," She replied, before crushing Jade's ribs too,

"Mum, _ow_, people are _watching_."

Through the smoke on the platform, I caught a flash of blond hair, taking in Malfoy's rather glum expression as he headed through the crowds, not noticing me as I gave him a tender smile. I was pretty sure that if I was mentally wishing him to stay safe any louder, then someone nearby might actually hear me.

"Oi, _loser_, I said we're leaving."

I realised Jade was talking to me just as she lost her patience and grabbed my arm, dragging me towards the barrier to the Muggle world.

"Family Christmases, eh?" I told her, smirking, her brashness distracting me for a moment, "Ain't nothing like 'em."

"Meg!"

Terry's voice made me halt, leaving Jade to storm off, muttering something about older sisters that I'm sure was really very polite and loving. I turned to meet Terry as he ran over happily, then suddenly paused, as if he had been about to hug me, and had then thought better of it. I froze, everything that had been revealed this term suddenly making me falter.

It was Antony who saved us, grabbing both of us and practically leaping into our grasp; causing me to crumple slightly under his weight and result in the oddest hug that I had ever seen.

"I think you broke my ankle." Terry muttered as we drew away, snorting with laughter. Antony gave him a clap on the back, grinning,

"Have a good holiday, you losers." He said happily, beginning to move off.

"Where's my Christmas present?" I called after him, making Terry snigger. Antony dignified the question with a rather shocking hand gesture that I really hope his mother had seen.

"I would have bought you as much chocolate as I could carry, if it wasn't for the sad lack of Hogsmeade visits." Terry told me, which made me shove him playfully,

"Your present last year is enough to get me through the rest of my life," I told him with a smile, "And besides, I'm rather deficient with presents too-"

"Meg!" My mum called through the crowd, "Are you actually coming home?"

Our house at Braxton-On-Sea materialised out of the haze and queasy reeling apparating always brought, leaving my head spinning long after I had stopped moving.

"I think Meg's finally getting the hang of apparition." I heard Jade's voice from over by the sofa, and I glanced down at myself, rather relieved to find all my body parts where there. I thought it was best not to mention that I thought one of my fingernails was definitely looking a little shorter.

"I'm going to write a letter." I muttered, shaking my head to right my surroundings and beginning to drag my case over the tiled floor of the kitchen.

"Not so fast!" My mum called, waving her wand and causing the kettle to shriek with instantly boiling water, "We need to talk!"

I paused, mainly because those were words I had _not_ heard before, and partly because I wondered what she would want to know. Had some news of my behaviour reached her and she wanted to tell me off? Or, and a sudden leap of panic hit my chest, had she seen the pile of letters I had written and rewritten to Malfoy, opening my heart and the anger that I hadn't told any of my family about. I hadn't exactly hidden all that parchment. I might as well have carpeted the floor with them. Explaining Malfoy to Terry and Antony was one thing, but my _mother_?

But it turned out my imagination was far too vivid for its own good.

Plied with tea at the kitchen table, with Fitzwilliam marching up and down between us like some outlandish sentry, she made us recount every detail of our term that had involved Snape and the Carrows, including the Death Eaters on the train. I tactfully avoided my detention with Alecto by taking the longest sip of tea that was humanly possible when we drew a little too close to the topic.

"But it's like Snape's expecting us to have an uprising at any second," Jade commented, tapping a tea spoon against her mug, "It's crazy."

"Well it's not that crazy." I amended, "I mean, there are quite a few people who like to show their unhappiness-"

"You included, I suppose?" My mother asked far too shrewdly for my taste, and I hastily went to take a sip of tea again, to find I had finished it. So much for the foolproof plan.

"Well...yeah." I said with an uneasy cough, "But I'm not the only one, there are quite a few of us. It's the DA-"

"Thanks for telling me about it." Jade said astringently. I blanched at how she had slipped my mind when I had been thinking of potential recruits. Was I really that thick?

"And I'm assuming your main aim in this DA is subtlety and extreme caution?" My mother said in a voice that dropped the room's temperature by a few degrees. Fitzwilliam even stopped his pacing.

"Absolutely," I said without missing a beat, "We take part in very cautious and subtle redecorating."

"But what have you been doing, mum?" Jade asked, scooping up the Pygmy Puff and letting it climb up onto her shoulder like some mutated parrot, "What's it like at the Ministry?"

"What you can imagine it's like," My mum said darkly, "Snatchers and such like everywhere you look; looking for any excuse to get rid of people they don't like. They branded Arthur Weasley a threat for Muggle sympathising-"

"What?" I interjected loudly, "But what about you? You work with Muggles!"

"I work in a Department that's pretty safe," My mum said smoothly, "And because I don't _redecorate_, I'm fine for now."

"For _now_." I repeated moodily, my mind flitting to Malfoy, and wondering if he was home yet. And what he would find there.

"You both should be more preoccupied with worrying about yourselves," My mum continued, ignoring my comment, "If they're snatching kids off the train then they're not going to draw a limit about how they treat you at school."

"I'm going to unpack." I mumbled, scraping my chair along the floor as I clambered to my feet. I couldn't take listening to this talk anymore; the talk that with each day made me feel like everything was growing more and more desperate. I was told to hide, be cautious, keep my head down, when all I wanted to do was rage about these injustices. I couldn't see how someone could keep their head down; because wasn't that the same as surrendering?

I was afraid. For my family, for my friends, for me. For _him_.

Shouldering open the door to my bedroom and dragging the case in after me, I headed straight for my desk, tugging free a spare bit of parchment from the mess that was still there and reaching for quill and a bottle of ink that hadn't dried up.

Leaning down to press the nib against the parchment, I froze, poised to write something; Sampson in his cage behind me beginning to squawk excitedly, sensing his impending usefulness.

It took me a pitifully long time to finally write out a feeble sentence; that was really far too light-hearted and stupid for anyone to be reading right now. It even looked stupid in my eyes.

_I remembered to give Pansy my seasonal send off, but I forgot to give you a stylish wink that makes hilarity ensue. Can I make it my Christmas present to you? _

"There you go, Sampson," I told the little owl, opening to door to his cage and tying the letter to his obediently outstretched foot, "Tell me how despairingly unimpressed he looks on a scale of one to ten, ok?"

Carrying him to the window and opening it, I let him launch himself from my arm; his small form shooting off into the afternoon sky; like a small, furry bullet. I watched him, realising I'd forgotten to tell him to be careful. But I suppose I could have likened him to a Pygmy Puff, and he wouldn't have known the difference.

The door to my room banged open and Jade slouched in, looking at my Weird Sisters posters a little critically.

"Can I borrow Sampson?" She asked as the band began waving at her.

"I'm afraid that option has gone out the window." I informed her, successfully keeping straight-faced. If Jade had got the joke, which she probably had, she didn't grace it with a comment.

"Who are you sending him to?" She demanded, looking annoyed.

"Terry." I said quickly, lunging for the first name in my head other than Malfoy. "Err...my friend, Terry."

"Yeah, I know who Terry is." Jade muttered, unimpressed and unaware of my more than guilty expression, turning and slouching from the room.

"Well she's in a good mood." I informed the Weird Sisters. Gideon Crumb began to mime playing the bagpipes in response. I took it as moral support.

Slumping forwards, I flopped backwards onto my bed with a sigh, the sheets rustling and hissing gently as my weight crumpled them; my memory all too forcefully flung back to the last time I had lain here, the night before we had gone back to Hogwarts. Despite that shadow of gloom and worry that still encompassed my thoughts, I realised just how much things had changed since then. For instance, that crippling sadness that I had never quite placed was gone; lifted the moment Malfoy's lips had touched mine that night in the corridor. And I sometimes felt that would be enough to make all this bearable. In fact, I was pretty dead certain.

Sampson didn't come back until the next day; looking perfectly intact and happy much to my relief. My heart skipped a beat slightly when he deposited a letter on my lap and shot to his perch at the top of my wardrobe, hooting happily. My eyes dropped instantly down to the letter in my hands, hastily eating at the words written in a far neater scroll than mine.

_Call that a Christmas present? I'm not sure I'm impressed, Forester. Don't go falling off benches over the next few weeks, by the way. I do have to say I'm going to spend my nights awake with the knowledge you've been unleashed upon the world all by yourself. You need to try and stay alive, you know._

"More like you do." I whispered, the momentary amusement at his words fading instantly as that rather melancholy thought dragged me down. Sampson gave a sharp hoot, as if to make me get a hold of myself. I had to say I was rather with him on this one.

Over the next few days, Sampson was sent in and out of my room; happy on his quest to fly to Wiltshire and back; parchment tied to his leg all the while, carrying the most irrelevant news I could think of, such as:

_I made a snowman that looks like you, Malfoy. Except it fell over when I punched it. I like to think you're a little more robust._

Sampson didn't seem to mind the climbing levels of written absurdity that he was being forced to carry to and fro, mainly from my side. I got the feeling that Draco didn't quite put his heart into the replies he was sending back, but his tone still seemed light-hearted, not that that released any worry on my part at what he was currently going through. It gnawed at the back of my mind fervently, and it was only on Christmas Eve that I finally had the courage to write him a letter that was actually about something serious. The letter was only five words long, untarnished by anything I might add to it that would take away from the desire for him to know just how much I cared underneath my absurd jokes and outer assurance.

_Please tell me you're ok? _

Christmas Day went at such an incredible speed that it was anti-climatic after the build up with the grandeur Hogwarts had given me. As per usual, I had left Christmas shopping to the usual mad dash to get something reasonably acceptable and had supplied my family with Honeydukes sweets and WonderWitch products. I was actually rather pleased with myself.

There was an additional present that hadn't yet been opened, lying on the desk; rather badly wrapped by myself. I hadn't really intended to get Malfoy a present (because really, what did you get someone like him aside from therapy sessions?) but in the end I decided to go with my usual style. Something ridiculous that he would probably throw away.

Still, I sent it a smile from where I was lying on my bed, studying the cover of a Weird Sisters album Jade had bought me; its contents currently being played from the player in the corner of the room.

"-_Now put your hands up in the air. Like an ogre just don't care-_"

With a snigger I realised I was currently listening to one of the tracks that had been performed at the Yule Ball all those years ago. I let myself smirk at the memory of Malfoy's vicar-like collar.

The sound of Sampson's fluttering wings made me jump slightly as he glided in through the opened window; small flakes of snow floating with him. I leapt up to take the letter from him, catching a glimpse of the collapsed Malfoy snowman outside. At least I made myself laugh, I suppose.

"You can rest now," I told him as he landed on my bed, hopping over towards the box of Chocolate Cauldrons that was lying already half-eaten. I followed him there, half to get the letter, half to protect my confectionary.

Vacant was the only word I could summon to describe Malfoy's reply as I stared down at it, reading and rereading; wondering why my heart was suddenly racing.

_I won't be able to write for a while now. I'm sorry._

_Merry Christmas, Meg._

Eventually, I just snorted loudly,

"Well, no to that." I told Sampson, who chattered excitedly as the music hit the chorus once more.

In a second's decisiveness, I leaped from my bed, lunging for my shoes and shoving them over my socks; grabbing my jacket as I ran out the door, thundering down the stairs and down to the hallway,

"Just going for a walk!" I yelled, dashing out the front door and out into the dimly lit street. Promptly slipping on a patch of snow, I grounded to a halt; taking in a deep breath as I worked hard to clear my mind, recalling those three words that had been drilled so monotonously into our minds last year, allowing no doubt to plague my mind as I thought of where I wanted to be right now.

I tore myself from Braxton-On-Sea, like ripping a page from a book, the world disintegrating before me, spinning and reeling like some twisted fairground ride. My stomach clenched tightly and I screwed my eyes shut, weightlessness disorientating my body, and causing a clamminess to creep upon my skin. Give me a broomstick any day.

The floor that materialised beneath me was a glossy, wooden floor; a thickly woven rug carpeting my snow caked shoes. It rose up to meet me; my palms flying out to steady myself, feeling my insides revolt slightly. I exhaled deeply, just as hands closed tightly round my waist and dragged me to my feet, half hugging me, half hauling me upright.

"You _can't_ be here."

The voice was panicked, stunned, but at the same time I felt a suggestion of tenderness, with the way the hands still closed around me, and when I looked upwards into Malfoy's face I saw his forehead was puckered with alarm, his eyes alive.

"How could I not be?" I retorted, casting a quick glance round what I took to be Malfoy's room. It was a dark, characterless, high ceilinged place, almost comical when compared with my messy, tiny bedroom. It reinforced my idea that this place wasn't much of a home to him. "With that letter? With not knowing that you're ok?"

"You can't be serious, Meg, do you even know who is downstairs?"

"I...what..._him_?"

"Not tonight. You need to go, though. Now."

"I can't-"

The floor to the landing outside creaked.

Without hesitation, Malfoy almost lifted me off my feet, his arms forcing me backwards; past an empty fireplace jutting coldly out from elegant wallpaper; he shoved me back against the side of a tall, dark wardrobe; the kind I would heartily expect a boggart to be hiding in.

"Hide," He whispered in my ear, his grip tightening around me for a split second before drawing away; leaving me slumped against the wall; my view of the door to the landing obscured by the burly wardrobe.

Without much in the way of warning, the door was opened, and I shrunk backwards despite myself, perhaps fully realising what an idiotic idea this had been. I'm sure it wasn't my worse, however.

The voice that spoke was the soft, anxious tone of a woman, and, from the tender way in which she spoke to Draco, I took her to be his mother. It seemed like a bit of an alien concept for me, imagining such an off track person like Malfoy having a parent who spoke to him like this woman was speaking,

"Aren't you hungry, Draco? You have to come downstairs some time dear,"

"I'm _fine_" Malfoy muttered, "I'm fine in here."

"It's because of the old man and the girl, isn't it?" Narcissa Malfoy pressed, and Malfoy's silence sent a plunge of curiosity into my heart, and an unexplainable fear, "Tell me what we can do, Draco? There's nothing that can be done for them, not if we want to keep ourselves-"

"I don't want to talk about it." Malfoy mumbled, "I said I'm fine."

There was a rustle of clothes as someone moved forwards, as if Narcissa had made to place a consoling hand on her son's shoulder

"It is imperative that we remain unobtrusive," She told him, her voice straining as if to hint at the weight of the fears she was carrying. "We can't oppose anything. It is the only way to _survive_."

Malfoy still said nothing to this, perhaps because he didn't know what to think. But right now, the only thing I was concerned with was who the two people Narcissa had mentioned were, and why it would be a reason for Malfoy to barricade himself in his room. My fingers pressed against the cold wall as I stood there, trying not to breathe.

"I'll leave you," Narcissa whispered, "But we will see this through, Draco, whatever happens. Do you understand?"

This time, I didn't want him to respond, at least, not positively. I looked at the side of the dresser, just glimpsing the back of Malfoy's sleek hair, willing him not to say what I knew he would.

He moved his head slightly in agreement.

"Yes."

The door shut soon after, and I stayed put, my gaze frozen on him; the small part of him I could see. He stayed in place too, as if he could sense how I was feeling; the atmosphere in the room heavy. Somewhere, the hands of a clock ticked into the silence.

"I..." Draco began, then broke off, turning to face me, and biting his lip hesitantly. I stepped forwards slightly, touching the wood of the dresser, my fingers pressing into it.

"Who's here, Draco?" I asked him, my voice quiet, "There is someone here, isn't there? Aside from the Death Eaters. Who's the girl and the man?"

He had looked down briefly, but now his gaze met mine, and I could only meet it for a few seconds. I sometimes hated that expression, I decided, that lost, wide-eyed despondency that made me feel so ignorant and so hopeless.

"Who is here?" I said again, my hands curling up as my fingernails bit into my palms.

"She is, Meg," Draco said softly, his tone defeated, and I didn't need to think to know who he meant.

"Luna." I said quietly, a horrible rush of understanding flooding me, "What's happening to her."

"Nothing," Draco said hastily, "She's fine-"

"Well she's evidently not, is she?" I snapped, looking up at last, "She's in a house full of maniacs!"

Malfoy flinched slightly at my outburst, and I ran my hands through my hair, pressing my fingers against my eyelids.

"I need to go." I said quickly.

"Meg-"

"What?" I demanded, his expression confirming that he hadn't got an answer, "What do you expect me to say right now, exactly?"

He straightened slightly as my hostile tone, as if aggression was the only thing he could really respond to.

"I'd like to know what you would do in my place, Forester."

"It's not about that!" I didn't care that my voice was rising now, "I've been worrying about you for this whole time, and you've got Luna goodness knows where! How the hell are you managing to sleep at night?"

"I don't." He snarled, stepping closer towards me, "After all this time, you think this is easy for me?"

I knew it wasn't, of course I did. But there was something in me, something forcing me away from here; I couldn't talk about this now.

"How would you expect me to react to this?" I asked him, "Really? I know what it feels like to be tortured, you know!"

"No, you don't."

That disarmed me slightly. Malfoy's hands twitched, as if he wanted to take one step closer towards me, and I forced my mind to focus on the ticking of the clock, trying to organize my mind.

"You're sitting here," I said determinedly, "Like your mum says; keeping your head low and hoping you won't be noticed. But I can't do that, and I can't-"

"You think I'm leaving her to be tortured and letting her starve?"

"That's just it." I said, my temper rising again, "I don't _know_ what you're doing!" My shoulders sagged, "I don't think I know you very well at all."

"Meg-"

But I wasn't listening, and instead my mind was emptying, pushing out his words; the ticking clock, and the small murmur of voices downstairs.

And then his face was gone, and I stood on a snow-covered hill just outside Braxton-On-Sea; snowflakes blowing across my face and sticking to my lips as the darkness surrounded me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, screwing my eyes shut and ignoring the cold biting my fingertips and my nose.

It was a while before I could make myself move.


	20. Chapter 20

**Not long 'till Christmas guys! *Happy dance* **

**This therefore felt odd to write...not looking forward to the January blues :P**

**Your reviews continue to make my day! Thank you so so much for all the support and comments- you all deserve a massive stocking from Santa in my opinion C:**

**In which Chocolate Frogs cause reminiscing and my sister wins the award for the blatancy.**

"Meg, you have to promise me something."

Owls were hooting all around us; young people rushing past me and parents calling after them; the smoke from the train making my eyes burn slightly. I turned to meet my mum's voice, looking at her worried expression blankly,

"And you really have to promise it," She added sternly,

"What is it?" I asked dully, hitching up my bag that was slipping from my shoulder.

"Please try your hardest to be inconspicuous this term," She held up a hand to forestall my protest, "I know it's hard. I really do. But they're getting desperate; they haven't caught Harry yet, and while they haven't everyone here has hope. Don't give them a reason to hurt you."

It was horribly reminiscent to the last time I had stood her with her, going back to Hogwarts. I had promised to keep safe then too. It was also horribly reminiscent of what Narcissa Malfoy had told her son. I swallowed angrily.

"Fine." I said simply to make that worried look that seemed so out of place on my mother's face disappear, "I _promise_."

"What's wrong?" She asked, placing an arm on my shoulder to stop me moving onto the train, "You've seemed miserable since Christmas Day."

"I'm...fine." I stuttered, remembering that was exactly what Draco had said. I wondered when either of us had ever been _less_ fine. "Really. Just...January blues, I guess."

My mum pressed a kiss to my forehead and released me,

"I love you," She told me with a smile. Normally I would have wrinkled my nose and copied Jade's words of 'people are watching' but this time I forced out a more genuine smile,

"I'll see you soon." I told her, hopping onto the train just as its horn blasted through the air, blaring over the chatter and shouting, "We're _definitely_ coming back for Easter."

She shouted something to me over the growing crescendo of the train beginning to move, and the calling of parents to their children. I didn't catch it.

I drew away from the door as the platform began to move past faster and faster, shrinking away from the people calling out to their families, and leaning against the wall to a compartment that was jerking and rattling with the train's growing movement. I dragged my gaze from the window, looking ahead at the people finding seats, at the atmosphere I had never encountered; the usual; excitement and laughter gone as with every second we drew closer to Hogwarts.

Through the crowd, I spotted someone, and my breath caught in my throat.

Malfoy looked back at me, and the coldness in his gaze made me feel like someone had lobbed my heart out the Divination Tower.

I stayed frozen for a moment, my gaze locked on his as if the people and noise between us weren't there. He had stopped too, his face that mask that told me nothing except that, right now, he didn't like me.

Eventually my view of him was blocked by the sea of people, and it was like a spell had been lifted, allowing me the use of my body once more. I summoned enough willpower to stagger backwards, through the next compartment, and I kept walking, putting as much distance between me and him.

Right now, my mind was such a mess I didn't really know what to think.

Perhaps on some level I had been kidding myself. I didn't doubt for a second that Malfoy severely regretted all that he had done, but I thought of him sitting there in his room; with everything that was going on beneath him, and it made my blood boil. Everything just seemed jumbled, and I could never get very far in sorting out it to myself.

I didn't see Terry until I crashed into him, tripping forwards as his hands seized my shoulders; his grin dominating my vision.

"There you are!" He said enthusiastically, "Antony was just saying-" He broke off, as if he had just taken my expression in for the first time. "Meg, what's wrong?"

My lip trembled slightly as I opened my mouth to tell him everything was fine and that he was clearly worse than Lavender Brown when it came to gossip, but I found I couldn't say the words. I wouldn't have meant anything less in my life.

And so; after Terry had led me back to the carriage where Antony was already sitting, with a pile of sweets leftover from Christmas; for one of the first times ever where Malfoy was concerned, I told Terry the absolute truth.

"Hang on," Antony interrupted, when I got to the heart of the story, "You went to a place where known Death Eaters were?" He flopped backwards in his seat, looking exasperated, "Are you really that dense?"

"Shut up." Terry told him, thought he looked like he couldn't have agreed more. "What happened then?"

"You mean before or after I found out that's where they're keeping Luna locked up?" I asked in a quiet voice, picking at a loose strand on my jumper.

"What?" Antony gasped, leaning forwards again, "Luna's there? Wha...how?"

I looked up in time to meet Terry's gaze, and saw a light of understanding light in his grey irises.

"What did you say to him?" He asked me gently.

"I..." I dropped my gaze to my hands, knotting my fingers together, "Well, I freaked out a bit really."

Terry seemed to be considering this; whilst Antony hadn't really seemed to have yet grasped the latest additions to the conversation.

"Luna's at the Malfoys?" He kept repeating, "I would have thought she would be in Azkaban at least."

"Well she's not." I snapped, immediately feeling guilty as he looked over at me. I hated being in this mood; how it was swallowing me, pressing down on me with as much menace as the castle that was drawing closer all the time.

"I'm sorry," I said, heaving a sigh, "I need some air." I staggered to my feet, the swaying motion of the carriage disorientating me slightly as I made my way to the door of the compartment.

Outside, shutting the door behind me, I crossed over to the window, sliding the top half downwards roughly to let the cold winter wind rush in; tugging at my hair and cooling my warm face as I inhaled it deeply, smelling the sleet that was flying in watery flakes past the window.

Perhaps, at the end of the day, I wasn't even that angry at Malfoy. I knew it had to be the polar opposite of easy to have your house run over by Death Eaters, and I could hardly expect him to openly oppose Luna's capture. I was simply more angry at the situation; furious that these problems had entered themselves into my life. Just thinking of bright, colourful Luna there, in that dark, soulless house made my heart pang with sympathy, and I wished with all my heart that I could have helped her.

Knowing that, really, I didn't blame Malfoy in the least right now didn't make any of this easier. The things I had shouted at him emphasised the exact opposite, and, judging from that cold look he had just given me; one that my heart was still reeling from, I very much doubted he would forgive me in a hurry.

I kicked out moodily at the juddering wall of the carriage, hating myself for my stupidity for blurting those words at him on Christmas Day. Antony was right, I _really_ was dense.

I stepped backwards just as the sweet trolley was moving past, and by accident hit the wheel of it with my foot. The old lady who always steered it let out a squawk of alarm, and I spun round to face her awkwardly. Thankfully, it seemed I hadn't offended her.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" She asked, the minute she had assessed that I hadn't destroyed anything.

Given that I had just kicked her trolley, I thought it was only polite to buy something. Besides, I was pretty sure that underneath her kind smile, she was certainly not going to take no for an answer now.

I was busy selecting a Chocolate Frog that might house a card I didn't have (fat chance, as I had eaten more of the things than I could actually count) when a cold voice sounded in front of me that was evidently not happy about certain somebody's presence. I could only offer one suggestion as to who that was as I looked up and met Malfoy's eye. Me.

"Two cauldron cakes." He said brusquely to the lady, and I might have made a joke about Draco Malfoy eating candy if this really hadn't been such a terrible situation. A small part of me was wondering why he was so far down this end of the train when I had seen him several carriage ahead, but I suppose he had just missed the trolley beforehand.

"Can I talk to you?" I blurted out before anyone else could speak, looking at him, my heart thudding uselessly in my chest.

A hint of a sneer grazed his lips and I forced myself to remain calm. I had hurt his feelings and he was reacting in the only way he seemed to be able to. I could fix this, and by hell, I was going to.

"Fine." He said carelessly, handing the old lady a Galleon and snatching the cakes she was holding out to him. I hastily grabbed the nearest Chocolate Frog and pressed a few coins at her as well, my gaze flitting to Malfoy anxiously.

My hands had gone surprisingly clammy as I led him further down the carriage, away from the growing accumulation of people who had caught sight of the trolley laden with sweets.

I stopped just before the next carriage; where the luggage was stored; the gentle hooting of owls mixing with the ceaseless clunking of the train on the tracks.

"I'm _so _sorry." I told him, the second I had stopped, knowing how pathetic this sounded and desperately hoping that he would know just how earnest these words were, "What I said was inexcusable."

Malfoy looked at me for a while, his lips set in an unreadable line.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Forester." He said at last, "Do you want me to forgive you and forget this ever happened?"

I hesitated. To tell the truth that was _exactly _what I wanted. But his tone suggested that was the last thing he was about to do, and I was scared to contradict him right now. I suddenly felt as if I was standing on an extremely thin sheet of ice.

"Well, no." I finally spluttered, "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for the things I told you. If I could take them back, I would."

"You don't get it, do you, Forester?" He said harshly, and I looked up at him in alarm, "You can't take back those words-"

"But I didn't mean them-"

"Yes, you did." He said sharply, "And why wouldn't you? But you can't keep thinking I'm always the one in the wrong."

"What?" I asked blankly, losing my train of thought completely.

"Do you truly believe that taking on every Death Eater in my house and freeing her only to have her and her family in more danger than before is the right thing to do?"

"Her name is Luna. You can say it." I said angrily, but he looked at me steadily, unmoved by the outburst.

"Well?" He demanded,

"I..." I halted, growing increasingly frustrated that my reasons for my earlier anger at him were proving more and more unfounded. "Well, no, but-"

"I really don't understand you sometimes." He said quietly, his fingers playing absent-mindedly with the panels on the wall, "You act like everything's my fault then switch instantly to blaming everyone _but_ me."

"That's not true!"

"But you blame me?"

"I keeping finding these things about you, Malfoy," I said quickly, feeling this outright, accusing question was a little unfair, "How do you expect me to take them lying down?"

"You know I regret them-"

"I know you do, but they still happened! They're still there, and I can't forget them-"

"Tell me what I can do, Forester."

"That's the thing." I said, realising what I was saying and wondering why I couldn't stop myself, "You can't."

"Don't." He had spoken the word loudly, carrying down the carriage. His jaw flickered as he spoke again, this time controlling the anger burning in his grey eyes, "Don't talk like that."

"But I can't forget it," I continued, almost pleading with him to understand that, "And the thing is, right now with everything that has happened, it's really hard to forgive you." My voice broke off. I wasn't saying this right, and right now, looking at his expression, I wasn't sure I was going to get another shot at saying it.

"I-" I went to try again, but Malfoy cut me off, his voice quiet with fury.

"No, Forester." He snapped, "Suit yourself." He made to turn away, then doubled back to me, his face lined with anger, "You know, sometimes, I really hate you."

That hurt. I watched him stalk away, feeling myself sagging against the wall as my eyes began to sting. I scrubbed a hand over my face to make sure I was awake and what I had said had actually passed through my lips.

He might hate me, but I was prepared to bet he didn't feel as hostile towards me as I currently was.

The train drew in as the day did; the screeching of the wheels breaking instilling little into my already low mood. Terry had been casting anxious glances at me for the remainder of the journey, but thankfully Antony's story about his more recent skiing adventures with his family kept up conversation, particularly with Padma's laughing.

The platform was chilly; traces of snow still visible despite the slush that flooded my shoes as we trekked towards the horseless carriages that waited. Sampson fluttered down onto my shoulder before I climbed up into the musty coach. How he had got out of his cage, I had no idea, but his familiar, large-eyed face was a comfort for me right now.

As the carriages began to move; bumping and jolting over the uneven road that wound towards the castle, I rested my head against the solid seat behind me; my fingers playing distractedly with the unopened Chocolate Frog that I had in my hands, glancing down at the purple and gold wrappings.

I remembered the first time I had bought one from the trolley, the excitement on the train palpable as we headed for Hogwarts; a place that my mum had told me about; the beauty and wonder it help incomparable. I had been dreaming about it for most of my life, imagining what the spires and towers would look like; if it was really as wondrous as the images I had conquered up were like. I had been proven right, of course. Those six years, before this, had been the best of my life.

I smiled weakly as I thought back to the grand doors to the Great Hall opening for my eyes; the Sorting Hat folding over my eyes and mordantly suggesting my use to Ravenclaw. I thought of the smile that had plastered my face as I took in the intricate ceiling of the Ravenclaw common room; the stars plotted against its royal blue surface. Then the lake; the grounds, Quidditch, the hilarious terror of Potions and the amazing food. I suppose only one, predictable word truly described it, and that was magic.

The carriage hit a rock, or some crevasse and rattled unexpectedly. Jolted back to present, I let out a sigh.

I had to stop. I was getting sentimental over a Chocolate Frog.

Dinnertime that evening was about as fun as could be expected, with Snape and the Carrows sitting up at the top table; their figures fearfully ignored by the students sitting before them. Everything seemed quieter than normal; the normal chatter and laughter muted. I sat looking down at my steak and ale pie, not the least bit inclined to eat it, tapping my knife against my goblet in what sounded, to me at least, like _Do the Hippogriff_.

"Meg," Terry said exasperatedly, after a few minutes, "Can you stop that? It's kind of setting my teeth on edge."

I would have apologised, but at that moment I was interrupted by Jade, leaning across the Ravenclaw sitting on my right to talk to me,

"You know that DA thing? I want in."

I had just taking a sip from my goblet as she had spoken, and as a result, the table suddenly got a spurt of pumpkin juice spat out over it.

"'DA thing'?" I repeated incredulously, coughing and shifting so I could meet her eye, "I...we-Jade! Shut _up_!"

"Oh, I'm sure he doesn't care." Jade said carelessly, poking the boy sitting between us. He started, broken from his conversation from the person sitting opposite him to stare at us.

"Yes?" I asked him pointedly. He blushed and looked away again.

"Well?" My sister asked impatiently, "Can I join?"

"Of course you can, but subtlety is kind of the point here."

"It's a wonder you're a member." She sorted, then caught my serious expression, "Wow, fine, I swear I'll never speak of it, or whatever you members of the DA say."

I hit my palm against my face in despair, wondering what malfunction in her brain made her so light-hearted about all of this.

As I turned back to my pie, I accidentally grazed my eyes along the Slytherin table and started when Malfoy met my stare. Something couldn't pull my eyes from his face, and it was only his looking away that released me. It felt like my heart had slipped down to my feet as I looked down at the glossy table; remembering when we had sat with the Christmas trees; the fire blazing as the snow fell from the sky. It was scary just how quickly I had ruined everything.

Snape made no speech at the end of the meal; leaving us to uncertainly pick our way out of the hall; departing for our four different common rooms. There was a faint buzz of conversation, and as I drew nearer to other students, I caught flashes of what they were talking about,

"-Harry-"

"-Godric's Hollow. Tonnes of Death Eaters!"

"Nah, you're wrong. He got away. Nobody was there-"

"It was in _The_ _Daily Prophet_," Terry said in an undertone, catching my intrigued expression, "Harry showed up in Godric's Hollow apparently. But, of course, he got away."

"I imagine that went down a treat," I commented, glancing back at the staff table. Snape was still there, his black eyes unreadable from this distance. It wasn't like he ever looked happy anyway.

"Have you seen Malfoy yet this term?" Terry asked, the subject change catching me off guard, "Because I'm sure you can sort it out, Meg."

The fact that he was trying to help me with this made my eyes in danger of stinging again, and I turned away slightly, not wanting to answer the suggestion in the slightest. There was no way I could fix this, not now.

By a wave of luck, Neville appeared by our side; his tall figure immediately recognisable, as he fell into line beside us,

"Good Christmas, Meg, Terry?" He beamed, then carried on, which was fortunate as I was intending to kill the conversation with a flat-out 'no'. "Hagrid gave me a message," He hesitated, as if he was about to tell us something he really wasn't sure about, "Well, it's a little risky if you ask me, but I'll let you decide," He flicked a look over his shoulder to make sure nobody was listening, "Hagrid has decided he wants to have the people who support Harry over to his hut; a get-together, I suppose."

"A Harry Potter party?" I asked, suddenly amused, "I think 'risky' is an understatement, Neville."

"I agree with Meg," Terry said, "How is that going to help anything? Imagine if we're caught!"

"I agree with you," Neville hastened to add, a little sheepishly, "I suppose he thought it was good for morale, and for everyone to be together."

"Will there be lightning bolt shaped cookies?" I sniggered, still hung up on the prospect, "And breadsticks shaped like round glasses? Oh! And ice cream the colour-"

"I think what Meg is trying to say," Terry said hastily, looking at me disapprovingly, "Is that we decline the invite."

"What?" I protested, "No! It sounds really good!"

"There aren't going to be lightning shaped cookies." Terry said tartly.

"I think it's a great idea." I pressed on determinedly, growing more serious now, "I mean, we're all going through this together, aren't we?"

"What if you get caught?" Terry snapped, "Imagine all the trouble you'll bring down on yourself!"

"Who says I'm going to-"

"What's goin' on here?"

The voice made the three of us jump wildly, and I turned to meet Amycus with the most guileless expression I could summon.

"Heading back to the dormitories." I told him, selecting the story that was the least likely to see me hexed, "Totally innocent and unsuspicious."

Terry grabbed my arm and hauled me off into the crowd before I could go any further, muttering under his breath. I caught the words 'foolhardy' and 'I feel like a parent'. Despite Amycus' presence, my bad mood had dissipated slightly. There was evidently nothing like the sarcastic mocking of a Harry Potter party.

The eagle was in as good as mood of ever when we reached it, but it was saved from me asking for a riddle by the fourth year that had got there first.

"The answer it 'ton'." I kept telling him whilst he scowled back at me, obviously unbelieving, "Really, I promise."

"Let him work it out." Terry mumbled, although there was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes as the fourth year answered,

"Scales?"

"No." The eagle said with a loud yawn. "Step aside and let the irritating girl blurt out her answer."

"It's 'ton'," I said in a tired voice, making a show of stretching, and smirking over at the fourth year in a 'I told you so' way, "You've asked me that before."

"I seem to recall it wasn't you who answered it." The eagle muttered as he let the door swing open. That wiped my superior attitude aside. It was perfectly correct about that. Malfoy had answered that particular riddle.

There it was, I thought as I wormed my way into my bed a short while later. That emptiness that I had felt when term had first started; before Malfoy had so determinedly re-entered my life. It felt a little like a part of me was missing; something taken from me, like a walking stick, and now I was left stumbling. And it was completely my fault.

Sampson hooted in the darkness, and someone let out a faint murmur in their sub-consciousness.

I didn't want to hate Malfoy, and I didn't. In fact, I was pretty sure I felt the opposite. But the way he looked at me on the train; and that cold gaze that had frozen me at dinner, seemed to say that he hated me, and it was rather justifiable.

I fell asleep hosting ridiculous scenarios where I set everything straight with him, and found my dreams tinged with the same fantastical improbabilities, so that when I woke, cold and tired the next morning, the fact that what I had said to Malfoy felt harsher and more blaringly real than ever before. The emptiness felt bigger too.


	21. Chapter 21

**Christmas Eve Eve!**

**This will be the last update before Christmas so I hope you all have a great few days and get lots and lots of food that's very very bad for you :D**

**Weasley jumpers all around! C:**

**In which cookies get stolen, skin gets burnt and magazines get lobbed across the room. **

I overslept rather spectacularly the next morning, so that when I actually found myself awake and dressed, I had completely missed Herbology. Already being five minutes late for Muggle Studies, I thought it would probably be better for my health not to go at all, and it was a very anxious Terry that found me lounging on the Stone Bridge as he came out the classroom an hour later.

"Where were you?" He asked, once he had made his way through the gathering crowds of students heading out of lessons, looking torn between being traditionally angry I had skipped a lesson, and half jealous that I had escaped an hour of Alecto Carrow.

"Oh, I was sleeping." I answered casually, too preoccupied with giving him a nonchalant glance to really notice where I was going. As a result, I stumbled forwards into someone; realising far too late just who it was.

Malfoy looked down at me, and for a second he looked just as surprised as I did. Then a sneer pulled at his mouth and he turned away, leaving me staring uselessly at the back of his head.

"Right." I muttered, my voice growing in pitch with each word I spoke, anger stabbing at me. "That's just fine. I didn't want to talk to you anyway."

"Meg, come on." Terry said quickly, seizing my arm and pulling me away, "I think it's time to go and find Antony."

"He won't even give me a chance to talk to him." I grated, ignoring Terry's grip on my arm and allowing him to lead me across the bridge, somewhat hastily.

"He's not angry with you," Terry said, then took in the furiously contradicting scowl I was giving him, "Well, he is. But I think he's just upset. And that's why he's angry."

"It's not like I'm pleased with myself right now." I mumbled, "I can't remember being less happy with myself to be honest."

Terry, although I'm sure he had heard me, didn't seem to have anything to say to that.

I grew bored easily in Transfiguration that afternoon, supplied with a raccoon I was supposed to be turning into a pillow. It was a little distracting when I was trying to concentrate on getting the incantation right to have a large pair of brown eyes blinking at me lazily, and as a result I hadn't gotten particularly far in succeeding.

Whilst my raccoon curled itself up on the silver and black striped pillow on Terry's desk, Seamus settled himself and his sleepy raccoon down onto the spare desk next to me; his eyes looking around carefully and alerting me instantly to the suspicion that I was about to hear something that was a secret.

"Hagrid said to go down to his cabin for eight o'clock tonight," Seamus muttered in my ear, directing his wand absent-mindedly towards his raccoon. I was distracted with suddenly fearing for its intactness.

"For the party?" Terry cut in, sounding astonished, "How is he still serious about that?"

"I think it's a great idea." Seamus grinned, sidetracked by Terry, and not seeming to notice as his raccoon slid from the desk; landing with a thump on the flagstones, "Barking mad, mind you. But it'll be fun, eh Meg?"

"Hm." I said by way of agreement, my eyes trailing almost of their own accord towards the Slytherins clustered over on the other side of the classroom. To tell the truth, I didn't particularly want to go, at least not with the sole intention of going to support Harry, who would not be the slightest bit aware of our efforts. And I had a nasty feeling it was going to end badly. But a little rebellion would certainly take my mind off a few things that right now, I wanted ignored.

"You can't seriously be thinking about going," Terry was saying to me, and I tuned back in, shooting him an 'I'm sorry' look before I spoke,

"I want to go. Lightning bolt cookies, remember?"

"And if you get caught? Amycus _knows_ something is going on."

"I really doubt he knows anything." I replied, and Seamus snorted, then swore, as he noticed his raccoon's absence.

"Just be careful, Meg," Terry told me in an undertone as McGonagall deposited the raccoon back on Seamus' desk, and gave him lines. ('I am a wizard, and therefore know the difference between incantations and profane language.') "I don't want to see you get hurt."

I let my gaze drift back towards the Slytherins, my heart stumbling in surprise as I saw Malfoy was watching me, sitting at the edge of the cluster of students. He dropped his gaze hastily, his eyebrows puckering into a dark scowl. I quickly averted my gaze back to my table, my hands clenching tightly around the wand in my grip; my knuckles whitening.

It seemed, I decided, that where getting hurt was concerned, Terry's fears were a little too late.

Terry eventually dropped the subject of Hagrid's party, which was probably a good thing. He had that habit of spurting flawless logic that I couldn't quite contest with, much to my annoyance.

In fact, he only brought it up again when I finally shifted from the sofa by the fire in the common room at five past eight that evening, having just seen the time. I had a feeling that his not pointing out the time was not a coincidence.

"And you're sure this is a good idea?" He said in a tone that told me he evidently didn't think it was.

"Of course." I replied, brushing down my jumper, "I take it you're not joining me?"

Terry let out a long sigh, looking over towards Antony for support. Unfortunately for him, Antony was busy talking to Padma; the look in his eyes making it plain that he couldn't be surfaced for anything.

"No." He eventually replied, flicking his gaze back to me, "It's far too risky. I don't want to let you go alone though-"

"Terry, no offence, but I am far better at sneaking around Hogwarts than you are," I snorted, a grin wriggling onto my face. I could handle getting myself into trouble, but there was no way I was dragging Terry into this. He was the wise one after all, and therefore needed to stay here, which was by far the most logical place to remain. "But hey, I'll bring you back a cookie."

"I bet ten galleons there will be no cookies." Terry smiled weakly, still looking a little unsure.

"We'll see, genius." I replied, beginning to move towards the door, "I'll see you later."

The eagle didn't bother addressing my leaving the common room after hours, and I was beginning to nurse the sneaking suspicion that this was his contribution towards protesting against the Carrows. Whatever the reason, I was glad to be spared a sarcastic comment.

The castle was its normal, deserted and quiet self in the face of the end of the day; the walls stained dusky navy with the night flooding in through the windows. I found myself missing the days when the most worrying thing on my mind when I trod through the sleeping corridors was running into Filch or Mrs Norris. I remembered the time Malfoy and I had run through the school from the lamp like eyes of the scrawny tabby cat and smiled fondly. It was odd how times I really thought nothing of back then were moments I now wanted to replay forever.

Despite accidentally knocking into a suit of armour on the third floor, and re-enacting the sound of a marching band, I managed to get out of the castle without incident, or, more importantly, being detected. In fact, I was feeling rather smug as I headed over the already frozen grass towards Hagrid's Hut, my breath steaming in the cold night air.

The lights in his cabin windows were lit, but as far as I could tell, there didn't seem to be any noise, beside the soft call of an owl, or the rustling of trees from the Forbidden Forest.

Unsure if this was some kind of extravagant cover, I hammered on the door with a series of flamboyant knocks that I thought best suited a secret get together.

The door was flung open after a few minutes, and Ginny stood before me, looking unimpressed.

"Honestly, Meg." She sighed, stepping aside to let me in, "One knock would really have done."

I was a little taken aback by the sight before me to really reply to that comment; distracted by the balloons scattering the ceiling; so plentiful that the roof seemed to be made of them. The small hut was so full of people that the floor seemed to be shaking slightly as they moved.

"It's pretty good, isn't it?" Ginny said brightly, "We put a Silencing Charm on the windows, you know to stop any noise getting out."

I followed her through the crowd of people, a little conscious of the fact that I didn't instantly recognise anyone. It seemed we had finally stretched past just the usual DA members, and I found myself feeling rather superior.

"Where did all the people come from?" I asked Ginny over the talking and chattering. Somewhere, it sounded like someone was trying to tune in a radio.

"From everywhere!" Ginny shouted back over the wavering sounds of stations being flicked through, "The idea seemed really popular."

"Where were they in our fifth year, hmm?" I asked Fang, who was cowering under a massive table that was laden with plates of food. I could only assume Hagrid had done the baking. I doubted I'd find rock cakes that looked quite so menacing anywhere else.

"No _way_," I snorted, seizing one of the lumps of biscuit and holding it up to the candlelight. Sure enough, it was a rather rudimentary take on a lightning bolt. I shoved it in my pocket for hard evidence for Terry later, shaking my head in amusement. "Well, my evening just got a lot better."

"Alrigh' yeh lot! Listen up for a minute!"

Hagrid's voice travelled easily over the room, and, aside from the noise of the radio, everyone fell quiet. I leant back against the table, Fang whining by my feet as Hagrid got to his feet; his head barely a few inches from the ceiling. I assumed he had just been sitting down, at least, as there was no way I would have missed him before had he been standing up.

"Now we're all here for the same reason." Hagrid continued, beaming as he looked round the cabin. Fang, recognising his voice, clambered to his feet and disappeared into the crowd, his paws padding on the wooden floorboards.

"The biscuits, right?" I muttered to the nearest person, who happened to be a rather nervous looking third year. She looked at me in horror.

"We're here ter support Harry Potter!" Hagrid said in a raised voice, "The Boy Who Lived!"

I could hear Seamus give a shout of appreciation, but Hagrid carried on before anyone else could join in,

"Now we don't know where Harry is," He said, "But we can be sure that's he's fightin' for us, right now. And we're-"

At first, I wasn't sure why he had stopped talking. But then I heard it too.

There was someone shouting outside; just audible through the glass window and collective hush of the assembled party. A plunge of dread hit my stomach before it really sunk in that we were in trouble.

I knew that voice could only belong to two people; and I didn't particularly want either of them to find us here right now.

"Righ'," Hagrid began to say in a hushed voice, as faces turned to the source of the noise, "Everyone needs ter get out the back do-"

The door to the cabin exploded in a shower of splinters and fire.

Someone, and I had a very good idea who, had sent a curse at the door; and we all stood paralysed for a split second, watching as the object barring us from the Carrows disintegrated before our eyes. The radio cut off abruptly; a few balloons popping; the bangs falling on silence.

The first person to start screaming was the little third year beside me, and with a sigh, I seized her robes and pulled her backwards from the door, sending her to my left and towards the window that was facing the opposite side of the hut.

People all around us were rushing past us; bruising me in their attempt to get out of the hut first. Over the sounds of panic and shouting, I could hear someone laughing.

"Get out!" I shouted at the girl, the window banging open at a frantic wave of my wand. Her robes had barely whipped out of sight when six other people dived at the window, each shoving each other aside in their desperation to get out first,

"Meg!"

The voice yelled my name, a hand grabbing mine and shoving me away from my proximity to the front door.

"We're in the DA!" The voice continued, and I caught a flash of Seamus' sandy hair as he hauled me along, "We need to get out of here!"

"What about Hagrid?" I shouted, my words lost as the framing on the right side of the hut caught fire; the sudden blast of heat stinging my skin. Seamus shoved us forwards, racing towards the back door as the crackling sound of flames seemed to grow.

"Oh my-"

I cut myself off as the roof of the hut was _lifted_ up. I didn't really know what else to say as I saw a giant looking back at me; the remains of the roof in his hands, eclipsing it so much it looked like part of a dollhouse.

"No Grawpy!" I heard Hagrid bellow, "Get out of here!"

But 'Grawpy' didn't appear to want to go. I saw a Stunning spell shoot over my head; hitting the giant in the chest. He didn't even blink.

"Alecto!"

The cry galvanised my legs into movement again, but as I began to sprint towards the back door a spell hit me in the back, sending me reeling forwards and sprawling across the floor. My hands slammed down onto the charred floor; burning and searing as they made contact with rubble that had been alight only seconds before. I let out a yell of pain, clambering to my feet before I could be hexed again. Seamus was gone from my side; and the air was heavy with smoke.

I stumbled forwards, no longer looking out for anyone else as I ran towards the patches of light that could only be the door. I only knew I'd made it outside when I tripped and fell face down onto wet, cold grass; my singed palms delighting in the feel.

A yell sounded behind me, deep and making the ground shake. I could hear Hagrid's voice, and the sound of spells impacting upon flesh. But there was little I could do.

I scrambled to my feet as I saw a figure illuminated in the smoke, and began to run as fast as I could up the hill, towards the castle; my feet growing soaked, my skin stinging from the smoke and heat.

The stone circle blurred past me as my breathing rasped in my throat, my feet slipping and my hands curled into fists. Up ahead, I could see students running, in the same frantic disarray from the cabin. I gritted my teeth in annoyance as someone screamed.

"This is really not making sneaking away easier." I grated, taking a right turn in an attempt to get away from the noisy students, only to be met with more running people trying to get past me.

"Not that way!" Someone yelled as they scrambled to get around me, "Amycus is there!"

I stumbled in my haste to turn around, my mind recoiling with the mental image of him finding me. I never would have thought I would have missed Filch.

I dived towards a corridor less people were trying to get up; dashing up through a shortcut and batting aside the tapestry that lay at the end, the clouds of dust making my tired lungs choke.

I could still hear the running footsteps, and I carried on sprinting, knowing that right now, I was a mouse in a trap. Sure, it was a very large one, but it was a trap all the same. And I was eventually going to get caught, no matter how fast I ran.

I had to stop as I forced my legs up the third flight of stairs along the second corridor, the stitch at my side burning, and my throat sore. I blamed the lack of Quidditch this year for my unfit state.

_And you're sure this is a good idea?_ Terry's words made my lips twist bitterly as I pressed my fingers into the crevasses in the wall, trying to reel some energy into my body and stay upright at the same time.

Not that far away, I heard someone scream, the sound of a curse hitting the wall resounding through the corridor. With no time to berate my lack of willpower, I began to run again, leaping up the last few stairs and along another hallway, my skin tingling with the fear that someone had seen me and was giving chase.

I darted round the next corner, my brain racing with panic. They weren't too close, but if they walked up here, all they had to do was use their eyes and the mousetrap would close. I really, _really_ needed a miracle.

And then he was there, standing in the centre of the corridor, his hands by his sides, in the act of walking slowly in my direction. Malfoy's pale eyes met mine, and we both ground to a halt; frozen in place.

"I..." I began, and a shout cut across me, sounding barely a few corridors away.

"Sister! I've seen one! You keep lookin'!"

I flicked a frantic glance over my shoulder, my muscles screaming at me to run. But Malfoy was in front of me; stealing my attention like a bright light in a dark room. I couldn't seem to move.

"What's going on, Meg?" He asked in a quiet voice, looking over my shoulder towards the area of the castle where the shouting was issuing.

"I need to get out of here," I muttered, moving forwards to cut past him. I drew level with him and his hand snaked out and grabbed my arm; his fingers biting slightly into my skin as he looked down at me; his expression blank.

"What are you doing?" I asked hoarsely, unable to think of anything else to say. There was an irrational fear rising inside of me, as I listened to the growing racket, my gaze fixed on Malfoy's eyes. Why was it so impossible to know what he was thinking?

"Let go of my arm," I finally stammered, trying a weak pull in the hope he would come to his senses. I could hear footsteps, "Malfoy, let go of me."

There was a loud bang; the sound of a wand firing a spell. Somewhere, at least a corridor away, someone let out a shriek.

The noise seemed to reawaken Malfoy from the odd trance he had fallen into, and he wrenched his gaze from my eyes, looking over towards the end of the hallway. His grip slackened.

I shoved him backwards, jerking my arm free and he whipped his head back towards me, looking from my arm to his hand; his eyebrows knotted in confusion.

"You need to get out of here." He said, frowning as he looked at me, a touch of iciness in his tones.

"But they'll find you." I felt myself whisper, backing slightly down the corridor, my eyes trained on his.

"And you know full well who I'm apparently friends with, Forester." He said in the same cold, snappish voice, although there was something in his eyes that was bothering me. "I'll be fine."

"Thank you," I said in a quiet voice, the words sticking in my throat slightly. Malfoy blinked, the frown disappearing as he seemed to take me in once again, a flicker of some expression I couldn't read passing over his pale features as if he had just understood the fear in my tones.

"As if I'd let them find you, Forester." He finally said, his voice quiet and slightly hesitant. I would have thought he was annoyed, but there was a softer look in his eyes; that same soft look that for some reason tugged irksomely at my mind, pulling me towards him.

The only thing that made me move was the sound of an unwelcome voice, and footsteps that were so clear they could only have been a metre from coming round the corner.

"Come out, little students. Come out, come out wherever you are."

My feet were moving over the flagstones once again, no comments spared for Amycus' questionable sense of humour. My heart was racing in my mouth, and for the first time that evening, I wasn't entirely sure what from. Malfoy's eyes had disarmed slightly, in a way that I'd forgotten could be quite so powerful. I wanted to hang back and hide, unbelieving that I'd left him back there in that mess and hating myself for it. But I couldn't quite see how I could make his situation easier.

My legs were soon flying up the stairs to the fourth floor; the fatigue weighing me down not stopping me. Right now there was only one safe place. And that lay behind a rather sarcastic bronze door knocker.

Much to my surprise, once I'd jogged wearily up the last set of stairs to find myself at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, I saw the door was open, Antony leaning against it, apparently conversing with the eagle.

"-and I don't think anyone wants your opinion anyway," I caught Antony saying, before he looked up and saw me.

"Meg!" He shouted, running forwards to meet me, "What the hell happened? Some hysterical girl came back here and said that the Carrows destroyed Hagrid's house! And that they sent a giant after you all!"

I made to reply, and saw that the door was swinging shut. Really not in the mood to exchange quips and riddles, I dashed forwards, catching the door just before it clicked shut.

"Oh thank heavens," The eagle yawned, "I did _not_ want to talk to you tonight. Your friends were saying you might have been killed. What a _pity_."

"I didn't say that." Antony scowled. I gave the eagle a grin and patted its beak. It squawked in protest.

"There's always another time, eh?"

"Especially if I remain closed forever." It muttered as we retreated back into the common room, Antony's hands on my shoulders.

"What happened, Meg? Was there really a giant?"

"Oh yeah, there was." I said in a casual tone, flopping onto an armchair by the fire, "It was with Hagrid though." Saying his name made me drop my offhand attitude, "Do you know if he got out of it? The Carrows were there, but then they were more preoccupied with catching students-"

"I don't know." Antony said anxiously, his voice fading as footsteps met our ears. Terry came hurtling down the stairs, a copy of the _Quibbler_ in his hands and a look I didn't recognise on his face,

"Hi Terry," I grinned, drawing my knees up to my chest, "I'm still alive. And I brought you a cook-"

"You total _idiot_ Meg!" Terry exclaimed, chucking the magazine across the room so it landed in a forlorn heap on the rug by the grate. Antony looked like he was trying very hard not to giggle, "You could have been caught! And then what? Cursed, probably. And don't think they would have let you off-"

"Terry," I said with alarm, completely taken aback by this outburst, "I'm fine, and very much not caught! Calm _down_."

"'Calm down'?" Terry repeated looking incredulous, before releasing a heavy dose of sarcasm, "Of course, it wasn't like the Carrows _burnt down_ Hagrid's hut or something. I mean, it wasn't as if you were nearly caught openly supporting _Harry Potter_ and everything he stands for."

"Do I actually have to hex you to shut you up?" I grinned, looking across at Antony as he began to snigger, "Come on Terry, I'm sorry, ok? Next time I'll be more careful-"

"No, Meg, you don't get it." Terry groaned, walking over to pick up the _Quibbler_ and settling himself onto the settee with a sigh, "I don't think we should be involved in anything like this at all. It's too dangerous. You were there tonight, it was way too close."

"You can't expect me to agree to that." I muttered, my good humour flickering slightly. Terry's words were so like my mum's (and I mentally set aside the brief time to hope she never found out about this) and at the same time they were the exact opposite of the accusations I had thrown at Malfoy. Me, reckless and stupid, had told him to fight, to not rest until he had done everything he possibly could to get others out of danger. Yet here sat Terry, clever and logical, telling me to keep my head down and stay safe.

The sinking, plunging feeling in suddenly in my chest was not a happy emotion.

"I wish you would." Terry was saying. I heard the rustle of movement as he turned to look at Antony. "What do you think?"

"Given that I just spent the last half hour holding open a door and trying to convince a door knocker that Meg wasn't dead, I think I would prefer it if she behaved herself." Antony replied. A smile made its way weakly onto my lips.

"What's in there, Terry?" I asked quietly, gesturing at the magazine still rolled up in his hands,

"Oh, it's a rather interesting new angle on the fight for freedom," Terry answered, sounding bitter as he threw it to me. Catching it clumsily, and spreading open the front page, I was greeted with a picture of Harry's face, the caption 'Undesirable Number One' flashing at me.

"Ah." I said.

"Yeah," Terry agreed, "It's obvious why Xenophilius has done it of course. If the Death Eaters have Luna, it's the perfect way to ensure he writes what they want him to write."

"And also ensures they'll keep her safe." Antony added, sending me a meaningful look. I took his reassurance as earnestly as he had offered it, and tried not to think of Luna at the Malfoy's house.

"I'm going to bed." I announced, getting to my feet and setting the _Quibbler_ on the abandoned armchair, "And thank you very much for worrying about me you two."

"Hey," Antony grinned, seizing Terry's arm and pulling him off the sofa, "What are friends for?"

I answered by swooping both of them into a ungainly hug, surprisingly high in spirits considering I had burnt hands, tired limbs and my heart still hadn't quite returned to its normal beat.

Getting into bed felt like an action that had been made in heaven. I sighed heavily as I stretched my legs out, pressing my hands under the cool pillow to try and calm the stinging, hot skin down.

Temporarily forgotten, as if it had been waiting for me to relax before reappearing, the image of Malfoy in that corridor crept into my mind; tugging at my senses and making my toes curl as I recalled his hand gripping my arm. That look in his eyes that had bothered me.

And lying there, I fancied I knew what it was. It was that look from last year; the look that was sometimes in his eyes when he was looking at me, when he was leaning towards me; his breath touching my face and making my own catch in my throat.

"Oh no." I muttered.

He might never be able to forgive me for what I had done; when the truth was I didn't think I had ever held him fully accountable for the mistakes of his life. Always, he had had a factor that had driven him to make his errors, and perhaps, he really didn't have any choice in what he did.

But right now, I was fully answerable for what I had done, and that knowledge felt like a knife in my chest as I lay there, my hands painful and my eyelids heavy.

Because I missed him with every fibre of my being. It hurt my chest, like some constant ache that made me want to curl up into a tight ball. And the worst thing was, I knew it was my fault. And I didn't know how to set it right.


	22. Chapter 22

**Happy New Year everybody!**

**Sorry I've been so late uploading the next chapter...thank you for being so patient!**

**...Except for you Ellie. Blackmail is one grade down from piracy I'll have you know. The only difference is that pirates arrrrrr cool. See what I did there?**

**Enjoy the update! And thank you for all the lovely reviews! Keep em coming people ;)**

**Wherein letters are particularly noisy and hugs are very, very welcome.**

Despite waking up far later than I had intended once again, I still managed to get down to breakfast in the Great Hall with the rest of the school, admittedly with hair slightly messier and uniform less straighter than anyone else's. But it was better than missing two consecutive lessons, I suppose.

"What's happening today?" I asked with a yawn, plonking myself down between Antony and Terry and stretching an arm out for the orange juice.

"If you are referring to our first lesson, it's Muggle Studies." Terry supplied, "And that's using the term 'lesson' loosely. But if you mean right now, Jade said she wanted to talk to you."

"Oh." I said with some surprise. Jade tended to avoid me like the plague when we were at school. I had no idea why. I mean, I was evidently the epitome of cool.

It took me a while to find her amongst the crowds of Ravenclaws, but eventually I shoved the right person on the shoulder, grinning as I made her spill grapefruit juice across the table.

"What's wrong with simply saying 'hi'?" She asked crossly, tossing her napkin across the spilt drink, and turning in her seat to give me a scowl.

"Terry said you wanted to see me."

"Oh, yeah." Unless I had imagined it, she went slightly pink, "Well, you know last night-"

"No, the explosions and giants and fire had completely faded from my memory." I put in, and she scowled for my efforts,

"Don't get mad, ok?" She finally said, and I had the inkling that this was going to be the kind of situation where getting mad was _exactly_ what I would want to do. "It's just...mum asked me to watch out for you, and when I heard that you were down there last night-"

"Hang on," I interrupted again, "How did you know?"

"I asked Antony." She shrugged, and I sent a glower down the table in Antony's direction. He seemed to work out what my problem was, and gave me an extremely cheesy grin. "But I may have sent an owl to her..."

She trailed off as she saw my furious expression,

"You _may_ have sent an owl?" I repeated, "You mean, you _may_ have just told her I was openly going against the Carrows after she told me on no account I should do that?"

Jade had the grace to look mildly sheepish.

"I have a feeling today is not going to be my day." I told her lightly.

Unfortunately, for one of the first times, I was completely right.

The first person I saw as we came to a stop outside the growing queue outside the Muggle Studies classroom was Malfoy; his tall, pale figure easily recognisable as he stood apart from the Slytherin gang he had once been a centre of. I regarded him curiously, feeling safe at his averted gaze. He looked tired and thin, but apart from that, merely sad. I couldn't work out if that boded well for how I had left him last night.

The door to the classroom banged open and a few people jumped. Whilst everyone was distracted by Alecto's thick form dominating the doorway, I looked down and saw with surprise that I had actually taken a few steps towards Draco. What the hell had I been planning to do? Ask if he'd like to come to the next party?

"Well," Alecto said in that voice that made me want to slam her into a bookcase McGonagall style, "Get in then!"

I felt myself sincerely wishing, as I got swept along with the crowd squeezing into the classroom, that one day someone would turn this into a wonderful comedic play, because I really needed to laugh it all off. Perhaps it could be funny in the future. Unfortunately, right now, it was anything but amusing.

I crashed down in the chair I had perfectly selected over the past few weeks as one that was going to draw the least attention towards me. It wasn't too near the front, nor too near the back, and if the right amount of people sat before me, I could almost be obscured by student's heads. With Terry seated next to me, I shuffled down slightly, ready for an hour of thinking determinedly about what Harry was doing now, or who would win in a match between a Snargaluff Pod and a Pygmy Puff. Anything but listening to the blood boiling rubbish Alecto would speak.

There was a scrape of chair legs and a rustle of a bag as someone sat down next to me, and I turned dully to look at them. And let out a squeak.

Malfoy flicked me an uncomfortable look, as if my sudden impression of a mouse hadn't been the reaction he had wanted at all. My face suddenly felt on fire.

"How are you?" I asked before I could stop myself. He looked utterly perplexed at that, so I amended my statement, "What happened last night?"

"Oh," The breath he exhaled slid through his teeth; soft and gentle whilst his eyes hardened. "It was fine. They didn't even know you were there, if that's what you're worried about."

I looked at him in horror, leaning towards him as I spoke again, hoping he saw the expression in my eyes,

"That _wasn't_ what I was worried abo-"

"MUDBLOODS!" Alecto roared, making me jump and wish, just once, I had been able to tell Malfoy exactly what I had felt whilst the courage was there. I could feel his gaze on me out the corner of my eye, and wildly hoped that he had understood that I had been concerned about _him_.

"They are a plague to wizardkind," Alecto continued, and I waited a few seconds, before sneaking a look at Malfoy through my lashes. His head was turned away, his slender fingers playing with the loose threads on his bag. I suppose I had imagined his eyes on me.

I cast a curious glance over my shoulder and saw a few seats dotting across the classroom where he could have sat. So why was he sitting next to me? Particularly as nobody was really a fan of me at the moment.

The small, daring hope I let blossom inside me was abruptly put on hold as a hand slammed down on my desk, making me whip my head round to see Alecto before me. I hastily assumed an 'I was listening all that time you were talking' expression. I had really thought I had nailed it, but as I heard Terry take a small intake of breath beside me, I got the feeling I wasn't going to be let off that easily.

"As I was saying, class," Alecto continued, looking into my eyes in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle uncomfortably, "Anyone who sympathises with Mudbloods are no better. Show me your hands!"

The last sentence was directed at me, her tone changing to a light-hearted, giggly manner that made her no less threatening.

"Pardon?" I asked, feeling sure I had misheard. On either side of me, I felt the arms stiffening and fists clenching. I got the sudden impression I was being crushed.

"Show me your hands!" Alecto repeated in a sing-song voice, and I looked at her in utter bewilderment. It was only when I had half raised my hands, palms downwards towards her that I realised what she was trying to see. My heart lurched as I remembered the burns that were on my palms; red and angry and very, very obvious. I relived the spell hitting my back that night, hurtling me forwards, hands first into the hot, searing floor.

And it was all too obvious she was going to know exactly who was at Hagrid's last night.

Next to me, Malfoy's hand flickered, as if he expected himself to do something, and didn't know exactly what. What I thought was strange was how a brief, ridiculous surge of hope hit me, as if Malfoy saying, or doing something was exactly what I had expected. I allowed a bitterness to twist my lips. After all, Malfoy doing something to stop a Death Eater was not something that anyone should expect.

And like that, Alecto's hands grabbed mine, painfully jerking them upwards; and I knew as her eyes narrowed with a toothy leer that she had seen exactly what she had wanted to.

"I think that warrants detention!" She shrieked at me, her stubby fingers biting into my hands. I couldn't quite bring myself to retort, an unbelievably cold fury strangling me, sticking in my throat. I couldn't believe what she was saying, couldn't get it through my mind as she continued to talk, the things she was saying bouncing off me; impenetrable through the haze in my brain. Why was I here again? How, when I had thought I was reasonably safe, had I let myself to get so easily cornered?

I spent the rest of the hour in a blind, deaf stupor, my eyes stuck on the desk before me, as if I were trying to commit the indentations and marks on it to memory. Once, I felt a brief stir of air above my left hand that was clasped tightly against my seat. It was as if Malfoy had shifted slightly towards me, his hand near mine. Perhaps he had slipped.

Terry's hand gently touched my shoulder as thirty pairs of chairs scraped along the floor; feet heading hurriedly for the door. I leapt upwards as if I had been burnt, seizing my bag and following Terry so fast that by the time we had squeezed out into the corridor, I was a little out of breath.

"Meg-" He began, his dark eyes on me in such a kind, reassuring way that told me if he continued talking, I was probably going to dissolve into tears.

"I need to walk around for a bit." I told him hastily, giving him a pat on the shoulder, "I've got Divination next anyway. I can pretend I foresaw attending her class would lead to my imminent death. She'll totally understand."

Terry moved as if he were about to say something, but I turned round quickly, hurrying through the departing students, keeping my gaze stubbornly on my feet.

The image of Alecto's triumphant expression was imprinted in my mind; swimming before me no matter how forcefully I placed my feet. My nails dug into my palms as I stormed down corridors and hallways blindly, trying to throw Alecto from my mind.

I paused as the wall to my left softened into a small recess; a ledge propping up the silver Hogwarts crest that hung there. I gazed moodily at the shiny cover of the emblem, my reflection just visible between the groves that twined into a depiction of the four houses.

I sank back against the alcove that almost hid me from view, looking up at the ceiling that was snaked with high rafters; cold, pale sunlight streaming in through the windows opposite me. Dust motes drifted before my eyes, lazy and serene in the cold corridor.

_I want this to be over_, I thought tiredly, scrubbing a hand over my face, _I want to forget this ever happened, so this place will stay perfect forever_.

"Meg."

The word was spoken softly; caressing my name in a way that sent an odd shiver over my skin. For a random second, I was convinced that one of the ghosts was trying to scare me. But when I looked up, my eyes searching along the corridor, my gaze lit on Malfoy, and I wondered how that voice could ever belong to anyone else.

"Wh...what are you doing here?" I asked stupidly, completely taken aback. His presence was so overwhelmingly unexpected; with so many complications pressing down between us, I didn't really know what else to say.

Malfoy looked at me, almost annoyed, as if I were slightly insane, as if his being here held the most obvious reason in the world. And like that, I found my feet moving towards him, hesitantly at first, the ground below me moving faster and faster as I crossed the distance between us.

My arms flung themselves around his neck, the warmth of his skin flooding onto mine as I wound my hands so tightly around him I thought he would pull away. He hesitated for a split second, then his hands pressed into the small of my back, pushing me gently against him, the small space than had been between us fading into nonexistence. His touch was soft, so comforting that as I stood there; his breath warm against the skin on my neck, his fingertips pressing tenderly against me, that I realised I was utterly content.

"You're strong, Meg," He whispered, so quietly I had to strain my ears despite our close proximity, "Stay strong. I know it's hypocritical, but stay strong."

My grip tightened around him as I buried my head in the crook of his neck, his robes brushing against my cheek. Right now, it was as if all the words I had so rashly and harshly spoken hadn't been said at all, every horrible thing that had passed between us fading into nothingness. It was here, trapped in this embrace that filled me with an unexplainable happiness, that I felt, for the first time in a long while, the small fluttering of hope. For everything.

"You're looking surprisingly cheerful." Antony commented worriedly as I sat down for breakfast the next morning. I looked up to take in both his and Terry's expressions. They looked as if I were a bomb that was about to explode at any given moment. Maybe I was.

"Good night's sleep." I shrugged, reaching for the Cheery-Owls, "Has the post been yet?"

"No." Antony said in the same, slow, suspicious voice, regarding me as if I were some kind of imposter, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Antony." I said with none of the conviction my tone was implying, "Do you want me to break down into tears to make you feel better?"

He held his hands up in surrender, a shadow of a grin on his face. With a quick glance in Terry's direction, I saw he was still regarding me cautiously. Luckily, there was a shriek overhead, and the first owl swooped down into the hall; followed by a blur of white, black and brown.

I followed the movement in the rafters above us, looking for the small grey bullet of feathers that would tell me Sampson had something for me. I was so transfixed with looking at the ceiling, I didn't see the owl that had landed before me until it nipped me on the finger.

"OW!" I exclaimed, looking down at the pale Barn Owl that sat before me, looking at me somewhat reproachfully. I took a closer look at the letter it was carrying clasped in its beak, and felt my heart sink.

"Oh no." I muttered.

"What?" Antony asked curiously, looking over at me as I snatched the letter from the owl's beak. "Oh." He said in realisation, upon seeing where I was looking.

"Hm." Terry said with mild interest.

I sent a glower down the table in the direction of Jade. She didn't seem to notice unfortunately.

Someone, and I had a very excellent idea as to whom, had sent me a red enveloped letter; that even as I looked at it, began to smoke at the edges.

Half hoping that it would be like the one I had received in my second year that had simply consisted of a very loud rendition of 'happy birthday to you,' I decided in, perhaps a less logical moment of my life, to open it straight away.

The seal had been ripped off the letter for no more than a second when a ringing voice; my mother's split the hall; cutting through the conversation and setting my ears ringing.

"_Inconspicuous, I said! Honestly, if you ran into a brick wall, sometimes I think the wall would come off worse!"_

"Hmm." I said, leaping to my feet as heads began turning my way, "I think I'll take this outside."

"Err...yeah." Terry agreed weakly, just as my mother's voice continued,

"_Can't you listen to a simple instruction that will keep you safe-"_

"Shut up!" I told it, diving out my seat and sprinting towards the doors. I could hear a few people in the direction of the Slytherin table laughing, but I didn't dare look to see who it was.

A few late people heading to breakfast stared at me as I sprinted past them, the letter held out before me like some kind of firework. My mother's voice was still filling the air, harsh and nothing like the figure who had seen me off for the start of term. I finally collapsed outside against the Stone Bridge; the cold air biting into my nose and fingers as I let the letter finish its rant.

"_Are you so determined to rebel against every little thing that you would get yourself killed?"_

I had to say, I think my mother may have gone slightly over the top with this dramatically voiced letter, and I leant backwards, waiting it out.

Finally, singing my fingertips and exploding in a whirl of red paper, the letter disappeared, leaving little but a ringing silence in my ears. I didn't really know what to make of that speech. I suppose, to some extent, she may have had a point. I _was_ determined to oppose the Carrows for the sake of opposing, but that was hardly a death wish. And so, maybe I had got caught, but initially everything had seemed to have gone particularly well. Except that Hagrid was now on the run, and there was still smoke rising from the rubble where the cabin had once stood in the shade from the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

"Who am I kidding." I muttered, wiping my sooty palms on my robes, "It's all a disaster."

I hated being right, I decided.

The dummy exploded in a shower of rubble and dust. I lowered my wand, feeling rather pleased with myself.

"Was that you or me?" Ginny asked, and I noticed that she had been aiming at the same practise dummy as I had. The small feeling of irritation hit my chest. I had thought I had mastered Reductor Curse. Apparently not.

"It was definitely me." I told her, before hastening away so she couldn't disagree.

Over by the corner of the room, I could see Terry anxiously checking his watch. I couldn't tell him not to worry, that at the end of this DA meeting, we wouldn't get caught, because I got the feeling there was every possibility of that. The fact that Antony and Padma hadn't come only seemed to have heightened his concern. In truth, it was certainly not my best idea to come after Neville had hurried up to me at the end of Charms class, with the pretention of comparing notes, and mentioned the impromptu meeting scheduled for tonight. I wondered if it had anything to do with my spectacle in Muggle Studies.

Sure enough, the moment I had sat down on the window ledge, watching the rest of the DA practicing their spells, Neville came over to sit beside me, twirling his wand between his fingertips.

"When's your detention?" He asked me in a sympathetic tone, that really did very little to make me feel better.

"Um." I hadn't been able to take in any of Alecto's words during the end of that nightmare class, so I had very little idea.

"Tomorrow night." Terry supplied for me, coming over, absentmindedly playing with the watch at his wrist. "I think we had better go, Meg."

I didn't want to argue with him, not after the failures on my part of the past few days. Instead, I got to my feet without comment, bidding Neville goodnight.

The corridor outside the Room of Requirement was silent except the occasional snore from a portrait. Terry's pace was ridiculously quick as he sped ahead, leaving me to hurry along after him.

"It's not technically after hours yet." I told him, panting as we reached the sixth floor, "We won't be in trouble if we're seen."

"Yeah, I forgot how lenient that Carrows are with stuff like that." Was his not very sincere reply.

"This way is quicker." I told him, reaching forwards to grab his shoulder and indicating a tapestry covered corridor.

"I almost feel left out I was never included in these late night excursions where you found every secret corridor in this place." Terry muttered as I hauled him past the dusty cloth.

We walked silently down the stone passageway, overly conscious of the echoing footsteps our shoes were creating. I found it hard to believe that the Carrows could possibly find us yet again, but then again, there were a lot of things I had found hard to believe that had happened of late.

It was only when I had pushed the tapestry at the other end of the corridor aside, when it was too late to turn back, that I heard low voices.

"Get back!" I hissed at Terry as he emerge behind me, looking at the panic on my face questioningly. But he didn't move, whether form confusion or determination, and we turned to meet the people who came round the corner a second later.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or not as my gaze lit on Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. It had to be better than Alecto or Amycus, though not by much significance. If memory served, Crabbe had always been a little eager with the Cruciatus Curse.

"Oh God." Terry muttered under his breath, and so slowly that the oncoming people couldn't notice, I saw him slip his wand from his pocket.

"Wait just a moment." I whispered to him, "I want to see what happens."

He looked at me like I had gone insane. I liked to think I probably had.

Crabbe seemed positively amused when he caught sight of us, a leer of recognition spreading across his face as he looked me over. By contrast, Malfoy turned positively green.

"What?" I snapped sharply at Crabbe, whilst Goyle looked as if he were trying to remember exactly who I was and why his friend was laughing, "Got a problem?"

"_Meg_." Terry muttered warningly. Along the walls, a few of the paintings were stirring, looking at the conversation below them with apparent interest.

"Look at that," Crabbe grunted, "It's not eight o'clock anymore. You're out after hours, you are."

I let out a loud snort, a fair few comments passing through my brain before I seized the nearest one.

"Cool. Let's all be rebels together."

I looked over at Malfoy, and was disarmed by the look in his eyes as he took in Terry and I. For a wild moment, I thought I recognised his expression.

"How 'bout we pick up where we left off?" Crabbe smirked, drawing his wand out from his robes. I restrained a sigh with difficulty, but Malfoy was talking before I could get a word in.

"We don't need to be here," He said, a taint of the old haughtiness in his tone, "We need to go-"

But he was cut off as Crabbe pushed a hand into his chest, shoving him backwards. Terry let go a startled choke. I think we could all agree nobody here thought they would see that happening.

"Play nicely children." One of the portraits interjected. His comment went ignored.

"I think _we_ should go actually." I said, for some reason feeling rather light-hearted despite the fact I currently had two wands pointed at me, "But goodnight and all that."

A few things happened at once.

It seemed Crabbe wasn't ready for us to leave yet, and as he whirled back to face me he screamed '_Crucio_!' a flash of red light igniting the dark corridor like an explosion. I was ready to duck, but Terry leapt forwards, his slight dark figure illuminated as he yelled '_Stupefy!'_

Crabbe was blasted off his feet; hurtling backwards and crumbling against the wall.

The portraits gave a collective squawk, then started clapping.

Goyle stepped towards us, his large form looming; finally seeming to have grasped exactly what was taking place. Before I could reach for my wand, however, he let out a strangled grunt, and toppled to the floor; hitting it with such ringing force the ground seemed to shake.

I took an automatic step back, letting out a pent up breath.

"Good aim." I said to Terry in a choked voice, nudging Goyle with my toe.

"It wasn't me." Terry said simply, looking up, unconsciously leading my gaze to where he was staring. Malfoy stated back, his hand flicking into his robes pocket, not quite quick enough to hide his wand.

"Well..." I suddenly felt as if someone had hit me very hard with something rather robust. Perhaps a Bludger or two. "_Wow_."

"Can one of you do Memory Charms?" Malfoy asked softly, dropping his gaze almost self-consciously to the two unconscious Slytherins on the floor.

"Oh yeah," I snorted, beginning to get a hold of myself, "If it's your whole life you want to forget. Or it might backfire. I dunno. I've never tried-"

"I can." Terry said quietly, moving me aside as he went to crouch by Crabbe's still form.

Malfoy and I watched him as he took his wand out once more, gently muttering and filling our space of the corridor with a soft, blue green light.

"Thank you." I whispered, having moved closer to Malfoy without even being truly conscious of it, "That was a pretty big risk."

"No it wasn't." He said tiredly, "It was pathetic compared to the things I should have done."

"There are a lot of things _I_ should have done," I said hoarsely, "Moreover, things I _shouldn't_ have done."

He looked across at me as the light from Terry's wand faded, and I was unable to see the expression in his eyes. Was he angry? Or was he actually listening to me?

"I mean-" I began,

"There." Terry said, staggering to his feet, "I've taken the last hour from their memories. I think I cast it well too," He saw us looking at him, our expressions blank from the conversation we had been torn from, and gave a weak grin, "If I do say so myself, that is."

"You'd better go." Malfoy muttered, and as if he was unconscious of doing so, his fingertips brushed against my shoulder, gently pushing me away from the rather messy scene we had created, "I can't see them being too pleased when they wake up."

"That's certainly not an adjective I would associate with them." I agreed feebly, "Um..." I wasn't too sure what I was going to say, and I was overly conscious of Terry standing there. In the end, I gave Malfoy a hesitant smile. "Thank you."

Almost as if he didn't want to, Malfoy let his eyes slide sideways towards Terry, and that same expression I had thought I had seen before clouded his eyes.

"No problem." He said in a rather detached voice, "I'll see you around, Meg."

He moved off before either of us, brushing past me and leaving me reeling rather stupidly in his wake.

I wasn't particularly aware of Terry talking to me, or my feet carrying me away from the corridor, or the paintings calling after us with amused tones.

In fact, my mind only became clear when I collapsed onto my four poster bed a few minutes later; the clarity rushing to me and giving me only one thing to think of before my eyelids closed.

I knew what that expression was on Malfoy's face. I knew it as if I could tell what he was feeling, because I had felt it whenever he had smiled at Pansy. Malfoy was the last person in the world I would expect to be jealous, at least in that way. It was a foreign concept to me. I thought back to that hug in the corridor, where the feeling of his arms around me had been so unexplainably wonderful. Perhaps, was it possible that he was starting to forgive me? There was certainly something about him that I couldn't stay away from, and I got the feeling, that if I was less blind perhaps, I would notice he sometimes felt the same too.

And then, perhaps that expression he had given me and Terry in the corridor, and the wild moment I had thought he was jealous, hadn't been that wild at all.

I caught myself smiling. Perhaps he would be ready to hear my apology.

After all, it wasn't long until the Easter holidays.

And I was sure that could only be a good thing.


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry for the erratic upload times- I blame back to college work surges ;)**

**Thanks as ever for all the reviews- I'm glad you're all still enjoying the story!**

**Wherein jars of frog's eyes fall far too easily and being out after hours is not what it used to be.**

"Professor, we need another jar of frog's eyes."

Potions, this early in the morning, was never going to be classy, but I had still half hoped that I would end the lesson without something green and sticky spilt down the front of my uniform. There was nothing like misplaced optimism I suppose.

Slughorn looked at me with tiredly, forcing what I took to be a patient smile onto his face.

"If only I had a Galleon for every time you had spilled something in my class, Miss Foster." He chuckled, with only half the enthusiasm he normally held. I was too grateful to think that Snape would have been snidely reprimanding me if he had still been my teacher to bother to tell Slughorn that my name wasn't actually Foster.

My Potions teacher seemed to have shrunk, I contemplated, as he cleared up the puddle of frog's eyes on the floor and bustled off to replace the contents. He was slope shouldered; as if the jovial happiness that only seemed to make him larger had vanished. And I supposed there was every reason for it. There were really very few people without haunted eyes walking the corridors nowadays.

I headed back to the safety of my desk, far away from the store cupboard and whatever jars that had the tendency to wobble and fall might be contained within it.

Terry looked over at the stain on my shirt as I neared the desk, the only comment he made was the dark eyebrow that disappeared into his hairline. I decided the subject was best left with that eyebrow.

I glanced up from shifting the mess around my desk to see Malfoy pass me, on his way to the store cupboard. I didn't know why he bothered. From my perhaps not so healthy studying of him during lessons; my chin resting surreptitiously against my palm so I looked like I was simply daydreaming; I noticed that he seemed to do little but the same as me, bar staring at unsuspecting individuals. He looked preoccupied most of the time; a thin pucker between his eyebrows, as if he were trapped in a moody world of contemplation that wouldn't allow time for schoolwork.

That really did make two of us.

Because I had been thinking, during every waking minute, turning so many words over so many times in my brain I felt like every page in the library was currently pasted to my mind. After last night, where Draco had found Terry and I in the corridor, I had been wondering how on earth to set things straight. Words were never my strong point, at least where eloquent, meaningful apologies were concerned, and by heaven, I needed one now.

I pulled absent-mindedly at the sleeves of my jumper, sucking on my teeth as I tried once again on framing an apology in my head. 'I'm sorry' just seemed indescribably lame.

Much to my annoyance, the class was dismissed not long after. I had been exceptionally close to departing the class free of frog eyes.

Seeing Malfoy was making to leave, snatching up his bag and stepping away from his desk (that held absolutely no trace of any attempts of potion making) I leapt to my feet; sweeping everything within sight into my bag, and, perhaps unwisely, not looking to see if I was accidentally stealing Bezoars or something sticky and runny that would later come back to haunt me.

"Meg!" Terry said in mild annoyance as I made to dash past him, "You can't just leave me to clear up your mess."

I glanced back at the puddle of smoking liquid that had been slopped out of my cauldron, and a borrowed copy (mine had disintegrated months ago) of _Advanced Potion Making_ that was currently splattered with something that looked remarkably like cat sick.

I let out a low whine, half of annoyance and desperation.

"I need to go." I tried, gesturing uselessly at the door. Malfoy was standing behind a few Hufflepuffs who were slowly making their way out the classroom. The old sneer of impatience was back on his lips.

"Why?" Terry asked, sounding highly disbelieving that I had to go anywhere without clearing up the mess that came naturally with an hour of thoughtless potion making.

In the end I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I did what any person would do when they had to clear up in a hurry. I hid everything under the desk and ran for the exit.

I felt my heart slip in disappointment when I finally made it out into the corridor; my eyes searching frantically for a flash of blond hair and being met with a sea of everyone but him.

"This is extremely unfair." I grumbled to myself, trying to wriggle through the crowds and simply receiving angry glares for my efforts.

It was only when I was out on the viaduct that I accepted defeat. Either the universe had an extremely cruel sense of humour, or my patience was going to be severely tested.

I waited ill-manneredly for Terry to catch me up before heading towards the Clock Tower Courtyard where Antony and Padma would most likely be waiting.

The day was still young I told myself sternly, still ridiculously hopeful every time I saw a Slytherin pass by us. I would see him again, and it couldn't be that hard to take him aside for a moment. By the end of the day, I would definitely have talked to him.

It seemed misplaced optimism was an occurring theme for me today. Despite having exactly three lessons with Draco that day I only saw him in Transfiguration at the end of the day. His absence was simply another thing I wanted to ask him about when I caught up with him, and I was just making my way through a crowd of people, only a few metres away from Draco when I hit a slightly unavoidable hurdle.

"Hey, Forester!"

That jeer made a jolt of anger pulse through me, and I tried to ignore the sound of Pansy's voice until she stepped in front of me, an ugly leer on her face.

"This _really_ isn't a good time." I tried to tell her patiently, looking over her shoulder as Malfoy walked further and further away. Futilely I made to push past her and was met with Crabbe's grinning face.

"Really?" I asked in mock admiration, "You guys are that desperate to exchange insults?"

"Where are you going, Forester?" Pansy sneered, "The Room of Requirement?"

"I...what?" That finally pulled my gaze of Malfoy, and I stopped trying to duck round Crabbe to turn my gaze on Pansy, "What did you say?"

"Finally got your attention?" She giggled, and Goyle laughed along. I couldn't be sure what was quite so funny. I doubted he knew either.

"You know about that place?" I asked a little stupidly, flicking a gaze towards Malfoy's retreating back. He was nearly at the end of the hallway now.

"_Please_," She jeered, "I heard the blood traitor Weasley talking about it. What is it? Where all you Mudblood losers and freaks go after you've been tortured-"

She broke off, as, completely of its own accord, my hand whipped upwards.

I didn't exactly _mean_ to hit her in the face. It just kind of happened.

But _wow_, did I feel better.

Pansy staggered backwards with a shriek, her hand flying to her cheek in utter shock as it began to turn a beautiful shade of scarlet. I took that as my cue to leave, springing forwards and shoving past a stunned Crabbe, legging it towards the end of the corridor; and towards Malfoy.

He lurched slightly as I practically collided with him; my hand slamming into his arm and causing myself to stumble forwards.

"What are you doing?" He asked blankly, as if I had just fallen off one of the rafters spanning over our heads.

"I...need...to talk to you." I panted, my fingers still pressing into the soft wool of his jumper, my eyes fixed on his pale ones. I hated how similar those words sounded to when we had been on the train. But no sneer touched his face this time. He was looking at me guardedly, as if he were trying to not assume anything. Perhaps he wanted to talk to me too. My heart began to accelerate as I contemplated that.

"What do you want?" He asked softly, his eyes never straying from mine, and I took a deep breath, hoping, that this time, I could make him understand.

"I-"

"Meg, I think you need to get going."

It took me a while to notice that Terry was standing right by us; I almost felt as if it had been Malfoy who had spoken. And even when I saw him, looking uncomfortable, I still couldn't quite believe the luck I was currently having.

"I...what?" I was a little speechless, unbelieving that I was being interrupted with Malfoy standing before me, after a day of trying to catch him alone, "_Why_?"

"Because it's five o'clock." Terry shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, "And you have a detention."

"Oh, crap."

"You have a detention now?" Malfoy asked, his jaw tightening,

"Because apparently having burnt hands is against the school rules now." I said with a weak attempt at a smile, rolling my eyes as I stepped back from him. Almost unintentionally, it seemed I had been only a few centimetres away from his chest.

"I..."I trailed off feebly as I offered Malfoy a pretty pathetic smile, "I'll talk to you later."

I might have imagined the curiosity that burned in his eyes briefly, but I really hoped I hadn't. It made my heart feel surprisingly lighter as I eventually turned away, treading mindlessly in the direction Terry was leading me.

"I can fix your hands if you want," He finally said in a quiet voice; as we passed empty portraits. Nowadays most of the occupants liked to huddle together; leaving behind blocks of lonely colour.

"I think I do want that." I said with a smirk, holding my red palms out to him.

"Hang on," He began to fumble in his bag for something. He looked up to give me a grin, "Honestly that expression on your face. It's like you expect me to heal you with my brain."

"I truly wouldn't be very surprised if you did, you know."

"Here." He said, handing me a small vial filled with a rich purple liquid. "Murtlap Essence."

"Bless you."

"It's for burns and cuts and stuff. I heard Hermione talking about it back in the fifth year."

"Where are we going?" I asked as I fumbled with the lid of the vial, trying to walk wherever Terry was leading me at the same time.

"Well..." Terry's tone made me stop fiddling with the bottle and look up. This was Terry, someone who always abided by the rules and would turn his nose up at me if I tried to leave behind a mess after Potions. But now, well, he sounded _sneaky_.

"Where are we going, Terry?" I asked, surprised at the note of sternness with which I spoke.

"Well, it was this idea that Ginny had, in case things, well you know, don't turn out too well..." His eyes flicked uncertainly to me and I frowned,

"'Well,' as in us staying out of trouble?" I asked shrewdly.

"Exactly." Terry's shoulders sagged as he spoke again; the words rushing out as if he wanted to get rid of them, "She thought we could hide in the Room of Requirement, until we can get out of here."

"What!"

I couldn't help my voice rising, and it was only when Terry shot me a warning look that I realised a few passing students were looking at us curiously. I ploughed on regardless, lowering my tone mildly,

"Are you crazy?" I hissed, "How is that going to work?"

"Well, why wouldn't it?" Terry asked a little defensively, "This way you're in a safe place where the Carrows can't get to you."

"Without food, 'cos of Gamp's Law Of Elemental Transfiguration." I added dryly. Terry seemed slightly thrown by this sentence.

"What did you just say?"

"I know some things." I muttered, waving it aside, "But the point is, Terry, I'm not going to just hole up in the Room of Requirement because I was stupid and got caught-"

"Meg," Terry said in amazement, "If you go to this detention they'll _torture_ you-"

"I can't just up and go!" I protested, my voice rising again, "Think of what it would do!"

"And what would it do?"

"Jade is my sister! If they think for one minute getting to her would be getting to me-"

"Then she can come too-"

"_No_ Terry. On top of that, my mum works in the Ministry, and it's too big a risk to take. I can't let my own stupidity get my family in trouble!"

"Please Meg," Terry stopped walking, turning to face me. I was disarmed by the expression on his face. He was pleading with me now. "I don't want you to go there."

"Terry," I said quietly, my hands tangling themselves in my hair as I tried to align my thoughts, "If I go there tonight, to the Carrows, then they'll leave me alone. They'll leave me and the people I care about alone. You saw what happened to Luna. How long will it take them to work out they can do things the opposite way round and make us behave, by threatening our families? If I go to the Room they are never going to give up. And I can't take that risk."

His eyes were scanning my face, and I knew in a few seconds he was going to summon a brilliant argument that would keep me standing here all the longer. And I couldn't antagonise the Carrows by being any later than I already was.

"I need to go." I said quietly, leaning forwards to give him a quick hug,

"Meg, don't-"

"It'll be fine." I said, forcing a grin on my face, "I'll see you later!"

I left him standing in that corridor, looking after me as I hurried away, hoping to God that everything I had just contradicted him with was right.

The floor rose up to meet me; my palms slamming into it; sending small dots off in my eyes. Behind me I could hear low chuckling, and I tried exceptionally hard not to pass out. There, in the back of my mind were Terry's words, and I fought the wash of bitterness sweeping over me as I tasted blood. Why did he always have to be right?

I staggered to my feet, bringing a hand to my face. It came away sticky. It appeared my nose was bleeding. I tried not to look at the small figure to my left; a strong feeling of nausea always swept over me when I did.

"Do you want me to curse you again?" Alecto tittered, elbowing her brother in the ribs. He began to laugh too,

The answer was pretty obvious, when put like that. But I didn't say anything. I really hoped my legs could handle my weight. Right now my balance felt reminiscent of riding a broomstick.

"I said!" A flash of light left her wand and smashed into the wall to my left. The small figure squeaked, "Which one of you am I cursing?"

I couldn't help it. My eyes travelled jerkily to the small first year who sat, crumpled against one of the desks.

"Leave him alone." My voice caught slightly, but my legs managed to haul me towards Alecto, "Don't hurt him."

Well, I thought dryly as my feet flew out from under me and I skidded backwards, just before I hit the desk and forgot exactly what I had just been thinking, at least for once Alecto was giving me what I wanted. In the most twisted, sick way possible.

I'd walked into the classroom, overconfident enough to think I'd know what was coming, to find that I had sorely underestimated the Carrows. Giving me the decision of whether they should hex me or some first year that was currently chained against a desk. At least I could no longer doubt that I was reasonably noble. Later, perhaps I could be proud of myself. Right now, I wanted to be sick.

I would have got shakily to my feet; but Amycus hurled another curse at me. My limbs screamed in protest as I was flung forwards again; scraping my hands against the rough floor as I tried to stop myself falling. My knees smacked against stone and I exclaimed in pain.

Somewhere, there was a loud bang.

Another curse hit me and I tried to scream as it felt as if someone was burning my skin. I was too preoccupied with being thrown backwards again, though.

Another bang.

"What is that?"

"It's nothing-"

This time it seemed to shake the floor; the desks rattling slightly. Blearily, I opened my eyes, unclenching my fists as I tried to listen.

Another explosion.

"You go and find out, sister."

"I ain't leaving here!" Alecto's voice pierced my eardrums, and I shut my eyes again, "You go!"

"I'm not going to look for the damn noise all by myself, you come with me. These two ain't goin' anywhere."

I heartily agreed. I think my limbs may have turned to something very pliable. Maybe this was the frogs' karma for me spilling all their eyes in Potions. Had that really been today? Anything so normal felt like a lifetime ago. And seeing Malfoy...

I whimpered as I tried to move, heaving my weight up to lean back against the wall. How could it be so painful to move? I couldn't even bring myself to stop the flow of blood that was heavy on my lips now.

"Are you ok?" The first year's voice was quavering, and when I looked at him I saw his eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Just _dandy_ thanks." My voice was thick from the blood, and I coughed, grimacing. Seeing his expression, I decided to leave the sarcasm there. It was hardly his fault we were in this mess, "What was that noise?"

Before he could even consider answering, the door opened. I flinched. How could the Carrows be back so soon? The noise hadn't sounded that close.

But it wasn't the Carrows. Michael Corner ran through the open door; his eyes wide and his chest heaving from running.

"Michael!" I exclaimed in disbelief, my voice oddly muted "Get out of here!"

"Someone set off some Wildfire Whiz-Bangs in the hallway by the statue of Gregory the Smarmy," Michael told me, completely ignoring my desperate tone. I noticed the nervous look he cast behind him as he shut the door, "They'll be gone for a while. But Neville said we needed to get you out of here. So here I am."

He took in the first year and his face paled; panicked eyes flicking back to me.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know what to do." I said urgently, trying to shift slightly and immediately regretting it. "If we free him, where can we take him? Surely they'll just do it again?"

"We can't just sit by and let this happen!" Michael exclaimed, and I felt a jolt of anger. Is that what he thought I had been doing?

"Take him and go then." I said sharply, knuckling the cramp in my side, "Quickly."

"I can't leave you here either!" Michael exclaimed, aghast, "They'll think you did it!"

"Michael!" I surprised myself at the outburst, but it seemed to make him listen, "Get out of here _now_."

I was out of breath; so exhausted that I couldn't bring the words from my mouth to tell him that right now, I _physically_ couldn't move. He only hesitated for a moment, before stepping forwards and waving his wand.

The chains around the first year's arm broke and fell to the floor with a horrible clang. I realised my eyelids were drooping, and let my fingernails bite into my hands, trying to stay conscious.

At the door, someone giggled.

Michael whipped round, in time to meet the curse that was hurtling towards him head on. I made as if to move forwards as he crashed backwards; hitting the floor with a yell of pain.

"_Crucio!_"

I winced, then realised it was Michael who was screaming now.

"No." I moaned, clamping my hands over my ears and screwing my eyes shut. I didn't want this, any of this. I needed it to go away, "Stop it."

My hands couldn't drown out the noise, and every yell Michael made seemed to drill into my head. It stabbed at my mind sharper than any knife, and I wrenched my eyes open when I couldn't bear it any longer.

"Stop it!" I screamed.

Alecto went a delightful shade of puce as she took in my expression, as if she had momentarily forgotten about me.

The curse she sent at me made me temporarily forget which way, exactly, was up. I remembered rather quickly as I slammed back into the floor, too exhausted and hurt to even make a noise.

My eyelids were closing again, I noticed, and I couldn't be bothered this time to force them open. Not when Michael was shouting out again.

I let any muscle that was holding me tense relax, leaning into the ground, as I let my mind float up into the wonderful folds of unconsciousness.

Some indefinable time later; hours perhaps, or maybe even seconds, I became aware of hands lifting me gently; pulling me upwards so softly I almost felt like I was flying. Without the horrible uncomfortableness of a broomstick, of course.

"What's going on?" I asked. At least, I had thought I had asked that. But the person's response didn't quite make sense. Maybe my verbal capacity was a little obscured by that bleeding nose issue. I really hoped I looked better than I felt. Unlikely.

"Don't worry, Meg."

My fingers travelled upwards as the person held me in their arms, a slight swaying telling me we were moving. Walking or flying? Everything felt dizzy and confused. Their skin was warm, I noted, as my fingertips brushed against their neck; skimming the skin that lay beneath a shirt collar. They swallowed.

"Where are we going?" I tried again, not entirely caring for the answer. This was really quite nice, right here.

"Hospital Wing." The voice said softly, "Longbottom got those two people out, or however many there were."

"I know who you are!" I said happily, seizing the silky tie that hung around the person's neck and holding it out before my bleary eyes. Sure enough, it was green, "Only you speak like that, Malfoy."

His tone implied he was smirking slightly,

"I'd rather you didn't steal that tie too Forester. It is the only one I have left."

"I was going to give it back to you," I mumbled, my fingers still absent-mindedly playing with the tie, "At Christmas. I was going to give you a toy ferret and your tie for Christmas."

Malfoy half snorted, then seemed to reconsider, and when he spoke again his tone was dark.

"I wasn't much up for receiving presents, really."

Almost unconsciously, his grip tightened.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, ignoring him trying to shush me, "I am injured, you know!"

"Be quiet," He whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my hair, "I need to get you to the Hospital Wing. You need to shut your mouth for a change."

"Wow." I grinned, "Someone's moody."

There was something tugging on my mind, I realised, and when I lunged for it a flood of memories came rushing back. There was screaming, always screaming.

"What happened to Michael?" I asked, clutching at Malfoy's robes,

"He got tortured." Malfoy said, somewhat unnecessarily, "But Longbottom is taking him to the Hospital Wing now."

"There was a noise." I mused quietly, the swaying motion of walking lulling me slightly, "Lots of loud banging-"

"It was Boot's idea," Malfoy whispered, and I felt him shrink back against the shadows as if he had glimpsed someone, "And it kind of worked. We wanted to draw the Carrows away."

"Yea-wait...I'm sorry," I didn't know if I had briefly fallen asleep and dreamt it, but something about that sentence was wrong, "'We?'"

I looked up in time to catch his smirk.

"I didn't come up with that idea either, Forester, if that's what you're thinking about."

"You and Terry did something together? Voluntarily?"

"_Voluntarily_ is a strong word."

"You both saved us."

Malfoy looked down at me, and I found my eyes trapped looking into his. How many times had that happened? They were quite entrancing, though. That grey serene look they sometimes had when he looked at me. Was it an expression he only wore when he saw me? I was probably flattering myself.

"I wish." He said softly, almost to himself, his eyes travelling down to what was sure to be a hideous amount of dried blood on my face.

He didn't speak again, and I let myself sink into the mesmerising motion of his walk that came serene and calming to me; the warmth of his body seeming to dull the pain I was feeling. His touch sent thrills through me; leaving my skin tingling where he was holding me. I clung to him, revelling the feel of his warmth and his scent.

"Meg?"

"Hmm?"

"I need to put you down now."

"Oh."

I was pushed down onto a soft mattress, my tired and aching limbs protesting at the change in pressure. I could feel where Malfoy's hands had been; burning softly against me and now I missed them.

"Are you going?" I asked, taking in the flash of blond hair illuminated silver in the moonlight. Malfoy smiled slightly.

"I'll see you later, Forester," He said softly.

It was strange, I thought, as I finally closed my eyes; feeling sleep weigh me down like a burden pressing on my chest. But for a moment I felt Malfoy's lips press against mine; brushing so lightly against my lips that I later thought I had imagined it. But right then, I couldn't remember feeling more peaceful.

I tumbled into sub-consciousness, a smile on my face.


	24. Chapter 24

**One day later than normal- I'm getting better at this! :D**

**Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter! They do make my day...Thanks for being such lovely readers! :')**

**Hope you all survived Friday 13th too. I always feel so special when no crazy mask wearing guy appears to kill me with a machete :3**

**Anyhoo.**

**In which matrons are scary and lame quotes are used at inappropriate times.**

I woke up the next day feeling like an entire Quidditch team had flown into me. Hell, every wizard on the planet. Trying to move felt impossible; my legs stiff and aching in an impossibly painfully way.

"Ow." I grunted, trying to shift my weight and instead feeling that I had dislocated my arm.

"Will you lie down and stay still?"

The commanding, short tempered tone had me ceasing my movements instantly, and I looked meekly over at Madame Pomfrey as she bustled over; her scowl visible even from across the room.

"Good morning?" I tried hopefully.

"One o'clock in the morning you came in," She said, getting a bottle from the cupboard by my bed and slamming it down on the surface, "Goodness knows I have enough to deal with, but bleeding students being brought here in the _middle_ of the night."

"Sorry for keeping you awake." I snorted whilst she poured a large dollop of the bottle onto a spoon. I glared suspiciously at it. It was a little too gluey looking for my liking.

"Here," She said, waving the spoon in my direction, "It will help with the pain."

"No thanks-" I began to object, but the spoon was already shoved into my mouth. It tasted as vile as it had looked; an almost acidic tang burning my tongue.

"A school nurse," Madame Pomfrey muttered, taking the spoon from me as I spluttered and tried to regain the recovery of my taste buds, "Patching up _tortured_ students. As if the world isn't falling apart enough as it is-"

My tired mind took a while to dawn that she wasn't actually angry with me. I wondered how many people had been sent here owing to the Carrows. Casting a look around me; wincing as my neck throbbed, I saw Michael Corner lying unconscious on the bed across the room; one of his eyes swollen shut. My stomach flipped in panic slightly; he looked terrible.

"Will he be ok?" I asked, nodding my head towards him, and sincerely regretting it.

"He'll be fine." Madame Pomfrey said curtly, and I hoped I missed the waver in her voice, "And _you_ need to rest."

"That's so boring." I muttered, lowering myself back down, "Can I go and visit my owl up in the Owlery?"

"Of _course_," She snorted, looking at me as if I were deluded, "And why don't you go for a swim in the lake too? Just in case you don't catch pneumonia the first time around."

I waited for her to march away, taking that revolting medicine with her before deeming it safe to retort.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know."

I let out a pent up breath, looking up at the high arching ceiling; spanning far above me. Dust motes swirled in the morning sunshine; lazily drifting before me. And I was bored already.

A memory, faint and fragile, prodded softly at my mind. I lifted my fingers to my lips; brushing them gently. It was almost like I could still feel his touch.

In the end, I finally fell asleep again; only to be woken up mid afternoon by the doors to the wing banging open, and a loud chorus of chastening following suit.

"Antony, shut _up_!"

"I thought that-"

"Oh I don't think so you two! This is a hospital wing! Get out at once!"

"It wasn't my fault, the door was lighter than I expected-"

"We just want to see Meg for a bit, we'll be quiet-"

"Quiet indeed! That girl has had enough to deal with in the past twenty four hours without loud teenagers!"

"No!" I protested, getting the grip of the conversation and propping myself up. My limbs still protested dully, "I want to talk to them."

Three people spun in my direction; Madame Pomfrey looking at me critically; Antony still looking a little sheepish about bringing the wrath of an angry matron down upon himself; and Terry, a worried frown etched onto his face as he studied me.

"I don't think you're in a position to know what you want, dear." Madame Pomfrey said patiently, and I began to snigger,

"Come on, I've been staring at the ceiling all day. If I don't have any distractions, I'm probably going to be awake all night, and then I'll want to get up and walk about and-"

"You have ten minutes!" Madame Pomfrey snapped decisively, marching away from Antony and Terry; heading towards her office. A few seconds later, her door slammed; leaving my two friends looking at me anxiously.

"I suppose 'inconspicuous' just isn't the right adjective for this friendship group?" I mused, playing with the hem of my duvet.

"How are you, Meg?" Terry asked, moving forwards; grabbing the nearest chair and shoving it beside my bed, "We tried to see you at break, but-"

"The devil woman said you were sleeping." Antony finished, setting himself down on the end of the bed, drumming his fingers on the rail. I tried not to think of the last time Antony and I had sat together in the Hospital Wing; with Bill Weasley over on the next bed. I wondered if Antony remembered me breaking down. I wish I didn't.

"I'm fine," I said, realising they were both looking at me with concern, "Really. Except for being bored out my mind." I turned to Terry, who had clasped his hands together, chewing his lip as he looked idly at a spot over my shoulder. "What happened last night? I mean, Malf-"

"I'd like to say it wasn't improvisation," Terry said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, his lips twisted in a bitter smile, "But it completely was a matter of luck. I...well, I don't know, I suddenly couldn't believe I had let you go to the Carrows, and decided to go after you. And well, I kind of met Malfoy halfway there."

"Wait, what?" Antony asked, straightening up and looking scandalized, "You didn't mention Malfoy when I asked you about it earlier!"

"I thought it would be better with Meg here," Terry said a little guiltily, "I mean, I don't know what happened. We distracted the Carrows, at least, we thought we did, and came to that classroom to find the Carrows gone and Michael...well he was in pretty bad shape. I had got him to his feet and had to take him here." Terry shot me a look, "_Malfoy_ said he'd do the same with you."

"_What_?" Antony seemed to be sinking further and further into disbelief, and at his expense I began to feel a little amused.

"That's right." I said lightly, plucking at the sheet, "Malfoy took me to the Hospital Wing. And very nice of him it was too."

"What about the Carrows?" Antony asked, "Did they catch you?"

"Well that's a good question." Terry said sarcastically, "She looks pretty alive to me."

"I sure don't feel that way." I grunted, stretching my arms dramatically. I caught their renewed worried looks that had just been fading. "Joking, you guys."

"Well, the DA coin has set a meeting for tonight." Antony said, leaning back against the end of my bed, "I don't know what Neville's going to do about this."

"Nobody is going to want to make any kind of stand," Terry put in, still looking at me with mild concern, "Not after Meg and Michael."

"There's no way I'm going to be let out of here tonight." I contemplated, "I wonder if I could sneak out-"

"No!" Antony and Terry both exclaimed together. Over the many things they differed on; Quidditch teams, when to do homework, who was the best member of the Weird Sisters; there was apparently one thing they did agree on.

"But I wanna go." I said in my best childish voice, sticking my bottom lip out. Honestly, it was worth seeing their panic-stricken faces to keep this going a little longer.

"Meg, you can't go!" Terry said, leaning forwards, "If they catch you-"

"Ok, I'm staying here." I shrugged, and he looked rather confused at my sudden agreement, "Anyway, personally, I'm more afraid of the scary devil matron than the Carrows. It's not worth sneaking out."

"If only the worst problems in our lives _were_ scary devil matrons." Antony mused.

It was Saturday morning when Madame Pomfrey finally let me out the Hospital Wing. I had to say I was rather surprised; seeing as when it came down to it, my reasons for being there were a little more severe than a broken arm, for example. But, according to her, I was the most irritating patient she had ever had. I was rather pleased with the title.

Immediately free of sharp smelling duvets and the disgusting medicine, I celebrated my freedom with something I had been rather deprived of. Fresh air.

Approaching March, the air was still bitter; but the slush had faded; still present in patches of the grounds that never saw light, but green was gradually reclaiming the landscape; buds of new leaves appearing, sticky and new, and the sky becoming a more determined blue, reflecting greenery more bright and verdant.

That didn't stop me shivering the moment I set foot outdoors though.

"Wow that is _cold_."

The indescribable sweet smell of fresh air clinging cold and sharp to my throat and lips, I began to move quickly; with the aim of keeping my feet from prolonged contact in the ground. I must have looked ridiculous, but I arrived at my destination surprisingly quickly. Although my underused muscles didn't seem too happy about it.

The Owlery was as smelly as ever; cutting off the fresh air I had been searching for. The musty smell of birds and owl droppings was a little overwhelming, but I made my way forwards regardless; searching for one little owl amongst all the large, proud ones.

"Sampson!"

There was a loud shriek, followed by a collective mass of hooting that sounded almost like a chorus of disapproval.

Like a small bullet Sampson dived down to greet me; his wings buffering me as he came to perch on my shoulder, squawking gleefully in my ear.

"Hello." I grinned, letting him nip my finger affectionately, "How are you? Eating enough defenceless mice?"

Sampson gave a contented hoot.

I stayed with him for a while; half considering writing home to explain everything over the past few days. But after the Howler, I didn't really want to risk another chance for my mum to write to me. I had to say, I was not looking forwards to seeing her at Easter.

I had just returned Sampson to his perch; trying to calm him as my presence had got him convinced I wanted a letter sent, when there was the sound of footsteps on the steps. Straightening up and stepping away from the sleeping owls, I was hit with a sudden blast of déjà vu.

Malfoy looked back at me, his robes fanning sideways in the breeze, the tip of his nose pink from cold.

"Well this is familiar." I smirked, skipping forwards to exactly where I had been standing the last time we had met here; the cold wind staining our faces pink and my heart racing at the letter I had just read, "Shall I pretend that I never read your post and instead laugh at how jumpy you got afterwards?"

Malfoy came forwards slightly, a slight smile on his face, as if he were trying not to laugh.

"I knew you read it." He said softly, sounding amused.

"Ah, remember the old days?" I asked with a pensive sigh, "You being all cold and snappy and with all that 'it's none of your business Forester, go away.' You had such a lot of beautiful angst, you know."

"And you were annoying and determined to know what I was doing." Malfoy said with a twist of his lips, stepping forwards towards me, "How things change, hmm?"

"I was just going to add," I grinned, ignoring his sarcastic remark, "That all the dark brooding anguish is still here. It's getting old, Draco."

"Is that so, Forester?"

"Very much so."

I looked at him; my smile slipping slightly. With a short exhale, I turned my gaze to the ground.

"Quite a bit has changed hasn't it?" I asked bitterly.

"Yeah." Malfoy's tone was slightly husky, "Yeah it has."

"I owe you an apology." The words were out of my mouth before I had even thought them through. They had been there for ages, in my mind; craving to be heard by him. I'm pretty sure they were the truest words I ever spoke, and for that reason a plunge of fear hit me as I looked back at him, meeting his expressionless eyes. Because I had nothing else to say.

"No you don't." Was all he said.

"Of course I do." My tone came out a little harsher than I intended, "Come on, I was being an idiot. I was practically asking you to take on every Death Eater in that house."

"No, you were asking how I could sit down and let things happen." Malfoy countered with maddening patience, "And you were right."

"Shut _up_!"

Owls around us gave a few squawks, woken by the sudden outburst. I tried to feel a little guilty.

"I mean," I continued in a lower tone. "That I actually wasn't right, and don't try and say I was, because you were angry with me for ages by the way. And I was angry at me too. So, just take my apology for what it is."

He was looking at me, and not for the first time, I had no idea what was going on in his mind. Unless I was hoping for it, his grey eyes were softer than normal. And wow, did I hope I was right.

"I'd give a lot to know what you're thinking right now." I finally murmured quietly, unable to stand it much longer.

"What I think?" He repeated, stepping closer to me, "I think that I've missed you far too much these past few weeks. And maybe you were wrong, I don't care, Forester, but with everything that's happened; it's felt extremely dark. And a lot darker with you hating me."

"I didn't hate you." I said blankly, my nails pressing into my palms, "Of course I didn't hate you. You said you hated me!"

Malfoy paused, then ran a hand over his face, grimacing slightly.

"Wow." He finally said quietly, his teeth biting down sharply on his lip, "This is a _mess_."

"It's a bit dark without you too." I said quietly, registering his earlier comment at last. He looked up, a small glint in his eyes. "Well, it's been very dark. I've hated it. "

He was rather close now; my fingers were wondering if his skin was as cold as it looked, and for some reason, this was when my mind started to recollect something that inexplicitly I felt had to be shared.

"Do you remember what Dumbledore said to us in our third year when the Dementors were guarding the school?" I blurted out as Malfoy took another step towards me.

"No." Malfoy's tone seemed to hint he didn't want to know, his eyes on my face, but I ploughed on regardless, one part of me wondering what on earth I was doing.

"I only remembered because I thought I was about to die of laughter after that choir singing, but he said how happiness can be found in the darkest of places," I wasn't sure if I had got this right, and really, I doubted Malfoy would notice right now anyway, "If you remember to turn on the light."

Malfoy looked at me a few seconds, either surprised at the fact I had listened to a teacher, or surprised that I was choosing this particular time to quote our late headmaster. Either way, he looked slightly thrown.

"That was very lame, Forester." He finally said, before I interrupted by throwing my arms around his neck; and my fingers discovered that his face was burning warm.

His arms wound tightly around me; springing upwards as if waiting for me to move first.

I slipped slightly on the icy floor; skidding forwards; bringing Malfoy's face down towards mine.

I remembered the last time I had kissed him; standing at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room; with the eagle making irritating noises behind us. It hadn't mattered; not with my thoughts obliterated by the fact that I would probably never get used to Malfoy's touch, that feeling of his lips against mine.

Right now, me leaning up to kiss him was something I did almost unconsciously, as if my body was craving it. He stayed frozen exactly where he was; my neck craning as my lips brushed against his, trying to reach, before eventually, thankfully, he gently skimmed his hands along the side of my face, and pulled me into him, leaning over me as my arms tangled further around his neck. Which, I concluded to myself rather smugly, as my breathing quickened; the pulse of his heart thudding against my chest, was really very nice indeed.

"I need to ask you something." Malfoy said, his breath hot against my face as he pulled away slightly. His eyelashes tickled against my skin as he looked down at me, and I glanced upwards, meeting his uneasy expression with a dazed mind. I nodded feebly.

"At Easter," He broke off slightly, as if wondering how best to chose his words, and I tried to concentrate and avoid looking at his lips.

"You're going home, I take it?" I murmured,

"Yes." He replied, his fingers almost unconsciously playing with the ends of my hair. "Yes I am."

"And," I said slowly, trying to find some words to finish that sentence. Malfoy seemed to be waiting for me to figure something out, and it was very difficult to do so with him this close to me, where I could feel his heart beating. "There's no way you can get out of it?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Look, Malfoy it's ok." I tried to throw his proximity from my mind and looked up at his distant expression, "I appreciate what's in that house. It's hardly your fault."

"You've changed your tune." He noted lightly.

"I'm changeable." I smirked, then dropped the smile tugging at my lips, "And it turns out I wasn't particularly empathic before."

I felt his stomach muscles tighten as he laughed; his lines at his mouth deepening in a smile.

"What?" I asked blankly,

"It's just this isn't the easiest situation to give empathy for," He smirked, "I'm really quite impressed that you feel any at all."

I doubted he was really joking, but I was happy to go along with it, taking his hands with my fingers.

"This is just a level up of last year," I grinned in light contestation, "You really are a damsel in distress a lot, you know."

"Forester?"

"Yep?"

"Stop talking."

I would have bounced back with a retort that would hopefully deepen that playful smirk on his face, but before I could do much he grabbed the small of my back, shoving me forwards the distance I had backed off whilst we had been talking.

All I managed was a surprised, rather contented inhalation before his lips gently crushed mine.

Well, I decided, between wondering how I had ever felt cold, I suppose life could be a lot easier right now. That darkness Malfoy had mentioned, it was still there, but here right now; with him, it felt just a little bit brighter. I didn't feel cold inside anymore, and the smile that broke onto my lips as he kissed me was almost feverish, and something I couldn't stop.

Was it bad to feel happy? I considered as I pulled myself closer to him, an accidental sigh escaping my lips. When so many people were suffering?

It was definitely hard to feel guilt right now, I concluded. In fact, aside from abject happiness that was swelling my heart and keeping that smile growing on my face, I didn't feel much else at all. Except for one small thing, that seemed to blossom as my mind brushed it. That it was Malfoy's arms around me; and Malfoy's lips against mine that was creating this wonderful happiness. And I knew, with absolute clarity, that I wouldn't want this situation any other way, with any other person.

And that, I felt, as Malfoy drew away for breath, a small, lopsided smile matching mine, was something I would never have guessed could have happened when we had come across one another here; on that cold October morning that felt like years ago.

That Draco Malfoy, whose life I had accidentally tripped into, was one of the most important people in my life. And I had the feeling that the fluttering in my chest, and the ridiculously fast beating of my heart was a little more than a simple strong liking.

"You mean so much to me." I whispered in his ear.

It was in the evening when I was sitting in the Ravenclaw common room with Terry; Antony over on the other armchair with Padma. I was busy gnawing my way through a packet of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and trying to get the gist of what had happened at the meeting the previous night at the same time.

"I can't understand what you're saying," Terry said patiently, turning over a page of the _Daily Prophet_ from his place on the rug by the fire. I scowled at him over the top of the bluebell covered ball, took it out my mouth, and tried again,

"I said, what is the DA doing about the other night?"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Terry said, shooting me an amused look. I was a little taken aback at the unexpected joke to reply. "Well, everyone got a bit freaked out to be honest. Ginny is saying her mum wrote to her and told her she wouldn't be coming back after Easter."

"But then there's nothing we can do," I complained, sinking back against the armchair, "Not if everyone is too scared to do anything."

"It's pretty justified." Terry said fairly, abandoning the newspaper to look up at me, "What happened to you and Michael was horrible. You can't expect anyone to risk that can you?"

"Of course not," I said quickly, "I was just saying."

Terry gave an unhelpful shrug, and returned to the newspaper.

"So have you seen Draco since the other night?" He asked lightly, keeping his gaze averted as he played with the edges of the pages. I, who had just returned the gum to my mouth, was completely caught out.

"Mwaht?"

"Have you seen him? What he did that night wasn't something someone who hated you would do." He seemed to be able to look at me again, "And I never really asked what happened at Christmas, but," He paused for a moment, as if deliberating his choice of words, "He seems to care a lot about you."

I took the gum out my mouth again, ignoring his grimace at my lack of manners,

"Yeah I've seen him," I finally said, my voice surprisingly husky, "I mean, I've apologised to him, and believe me, I really needed to. And," I hesitated slightly, wondering if this was the greatest topic to be discussing with Terry, of all people, "I care about him too."

To my infinite wonder and complete astonishment, Terry gave me a large, genuine grin.

"Well, I'm glad."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Huh?"

"Er, nothing." I returned the gum to my mouth hastily. I didn't know what that said about me, but it was probably negative, given that I thought Terry might have had a bitter reaction to that. It wasn't like either of us had talked about what had happened before Christmas, when Antony had told me Terry had liked me. In fact, we had avoided it with rather impressive skill. The second I considered all of this, I was hit with a wave of guilt any of it had crossed my mind. What was I doing, thinking Terry would be swallowed with bitterness over Malfoy and me? What was wrong with me?

"I imagine a lot of people won't come back after Easter," Terry was saying, whilst I grappled with the sudden bout of self disgust I had created, "I guess it's the perfect opportunity for parents to get their children out of here."

"Smuly id wouln mwake id wose?"

"Meg?"

"Mweh?"

"I can't talk to you when your face consists of bubblegum."

I let the bubblegum drift off towards the ceiling; bouncing against the rafters as it went. Knowing Drooble, it would probably be there for a few weeks. I didn't bother with a rephrase of my question, and instead followed the bubble as the paintings squawked when it came too close to them.

It wasn't long until the Easter Holidays, and after that, only a matter of time until this nightmare year came to an end. And I was gone from here forever. It was strange what a blank, hollow hole that left in my heart; and I felt as if I had been cheated out of something. Which I completely had.

I let out a low sigh as the bubble became stuck to an oil painting of an intelligent looking wizard. He gave a cry of anguish and leapt out of his frame.

It was one thing to be inside Hogwarts with the Dark Lord in power, I realised. It was another to be out there in the real world, where everything had always seemed a little less wonderful and happy. But right now, with bruises still on my skin, I couldn't decide which option was safer. Maybe I'd have to find myself somewhere sparsely populated to lie low. Was that the life I had to look forward to once Hogwarts was behind me? Hiding in the shadows with everyone else who was frightened and troubled, for the rest of my life?

But hey, maybe I was overreacting.

Perhaps the North Pole was nice this time of year.


	25. Chapter 25

**So, funny story.**

**Guess whose computer died and deleted the whole chapter I had written? Ha. Ha ha. Ha. **

**Oh yeah, I laughed. Until I cried.**

**Cough. Anyway, that's why it's late this week! I'm sure I'll get an even better excuse next time! Can dogs eat laptops? **

**Thank you for all the reviews again by the way guys, it's so lovely to know you're enjoying the story as much as ever :3 **

**Wherein I hide behind doors and meet the parents. **

My mum was packing.

From my perch on the wooden kitchen table, my feet propped up on one of the rickety dining chairs, I watched as a few knives and forks hurtled into one of the suitcases propped open on the kitchen counter.

"So just short of the kitchen sink," I said slowly, taking a sip of the cup of tea that had been in my hands for the last few minutes. It was already lukewarm, "Just how much are you taking with you?"

"Trust you to make a joke of this." My mum muttered, brandishing her wand at a pile of clothing that jumped after the cutlery, "I don't even know where I'm going yet."

The worried look on her face was not something I was accustomed to.

Jade and I had returned home with the rest of the students a week ago, weary and exhausted as the parents that had greeted us; me never before noticing just how empty the station seemed nowadays. How many people were now on the run, hiding because the blood that ran in their veins or the thoughts that flowed in their brains just wasn't '_right'_. And how many of them were dead?

"Why do you even have to go?" Jade asked. She sounded angry, but I liked to think I knew her well enough to know that she was simply scared and worried. That, and it seemed anyone felt little else more than those two emotions right now.

"Working in a Muggle involved department it was only a matter of time before someone pinned me as a 'Muggle sympathiser,'" My mum said in derisive tones tossing a photo frame in the direction of the suitcase. It missed by a few metres. I guess I got my Quidditch skills from her. "It's just a little too hot working there anyway. And I don't want to give them any reason to go after me."

"Where will you go?" Jade demanded, "This is too rushed, mum, you can't just go tearing off like this-"

"Honey, people are disappearing daily. Either they don't turn up or they turn up dead. Do you want me to take that risk?"

"Yeah," I echoed an agreement and got a glower from my sister, as my mum resumed packing, "That's just what I was- wow, really mum? You're taking _Gilderoy Lockhart_ into hiding with you?"

"Are we safe at Hogwarts?" Jade asked, ignoring my indignant spluttering, "If you go?"

"You're as safe there as you are anywhere, Jade," My mum sighed, running a hand through her messily tied up hair. The shadows under her eyes were becoming more and more common in the face of people I saw. "Perhaps a little bit safer. If you refrain from certain activities."

"Uh oh." I muttered as she turned her gaze on me. She hadn't really mentioned the Howler, or the fiasco at Hagrid's Hut before now, but there had been a thin layer of frost in our conversations, particularly from my side as receiving a Howler had made me look more of an idiot than I usually managed by myself.

"Just think about what you're doing Meg," She said sternly, and I shrank down a bit, the way anyone does when their mother adopts a tone better associated with the kind of times when you break something and blame a sibling. "They'll use people you care about to make you behave. Don't think that that idea is only used on frightened parents. They can and they will go after people if you don't lie low."

Her words were like a slap in the face. Vaguely, I had been distantly aware of threats on the children of people at the Ministry; told to behave and obey so they could protect their families. But never before had I considered that it could be used the other way around. The harsh reality of it all caused my heart to plunge downwards like a stone falling hopelessly into some dark chasm. A dull surge of anger hit me as I realised that was yet another thing I hadn't thought through or considered.

I had just set the teacup down when I heard it, a noise so faint I could have missed it if some subconscious part of me hadn't somehow been attuned to listening out for it, as if, at some point I knew it would happen.

It sounded like something had dropped off a high surface upstairs and hit the floor, and perhaps to Jade or my mum that was exactly what it could have been passed as. But I _knew_ what it was, I sensed it in some weird, unexplainable way.

Someone upstairs had just apparated.

I didn't stay long enough to even think up an excuse. The cup banged down on the table and I sprang forwards, dashing through the kitchen door and thundering up the stairs.

"Are you alright?" My mum's voice travelled after me, light hearted and ridiculously out of place as my heart and brain thundered around together illogically and wildly out of control.

I sprinted into my room and slammed the door shut, trying to focus on breathing as I turned from the sound of the soft click as the door closing, wondering if I should panic or not.

Malfoy looked back at me and I knew immediately that something was extremely wrong.

He was out of breath, his white blond hair ruffled as if he had just run somewhere very fast. But his eyes caught my attention; large and panicked; easily perceivable even from across the room.

The fear that shot through me at his expression was unstoppable, igniting every and any dreadful possibility that my mind could create. My tongue stuck at asking him what was wrong, unable to hear an answer, and in a split second my brain selected the most illogical and stupid thing to utter.

"I'd loved to have seen Jade's face if you had apparated into her room."

"I don't even know why I'm here." His breathing was still erratic, his tones strained as his forehead creased, "I...I just saw them and I don't know-"

"What?" I cut sharply across his halting words, "Who did you see?"

"Meg," He breathed, as if he was truly cluing in that he was here right now and had simply come out of here as if, well, as if I was the first person who had come into his mind. "I think they've caught them."

I didn't need to ask again.

My hands flew forwards, seizing his jumper and gripping him tight, pulling him towards me. Beneath that frantic desperation in his eyes, his fingers pressed softly down on me for a tiny moment before I tore the ground from my feet.

Rushing glimpses of a darkness flecked and pulsing with streaks of light pressed against my eyelids, squeezing my insides together and suffocating me; sending my head reeling so that when the intricately woven fabric of an antique rug fell against my hands, it took me a while to notice we had stopped spinning.

Malfoy had pulled me to my feet before I had fully worked out where we were; the soft light from a chandelier glittering in the corner of my vision, illuminating a dark panelled room that was shadowed from the gathering night outside.

"What are you doing?" He whispered hoarsely in my ear.

"What?" I hissed back, my fingers digging into his arms as I tried to focus my eyes, "Where else was I going to go? Where are they?"

"I heard them on the drive outside-"

Hurried knocking came at a door, a low murmuring of voices accompanying it. Footsteps echoed beyond a closed door, swift and impatient as the knocking continued.

"Get out of here, Meg!" Draco said hastily, his hands gripping me as if he could push me back to Braxton-On-Sea.

"No, Malfoy, if they've caught him-"

"I need to get back to the drawing room, please, stay _here_."

"Draco!" I couldn't help my voice rising, and he shushed me frenetically, "You came to my room and told me this was going on!"

"I know," His forehead rumpled as his lips drew back, a grimace of hesitancy and desperation flickering onto his pale face, "I'm sorry, I didn't think, I just-"

A grating noise cut across him, the sound of a door being opened. A woman's voice spoke a curt sentence.

"Ok," I said quickly, my hands still grasping Malfoy as I forced my brain to think, "Ok, go back to the drawing room; we'll think of something if..." I trailed off, but there wasn't much need to finish the sentence.

If the Death Eaters had caught Harry Potter.

I pushed him gently backwards, hoping to galvanise him into moving, so that we could face whatever would be brought over the threshold to this characterless home. He gave me one last, searching look before pressing his hands against a panelled door, and disappearing into the next room, leaving me standing there, breathless and fighting to stay calm.

He had barely been gone a few seconds when the footsteps came back, loud and scraping, as if people were being dragged or pushed. My heart began to thunder so loudly in my chest I was convinced it was audible, and I shrank back against the wall, more out of fear than the actual possibility somebody would come in here.

"-if that is Harry Potter, he will know." The voice of a woman said.

"Oh my God," I breathed, my hands gripping the wall behind me as the implications of that sentence hit me. Suddenly, I was back in that corridor with Greyback hanging over me, my eyes focusing on another, grey pair frozen in fear, a fear for absolutely everything. Perhaps I couldn't fully blame Draco for what had happened that night. But if that same fear gripped him now, I wasn't going to be the only one suffering.

The sound of a door opening, the footsteps slowing.

"What is this?" The cold, drawling voice could only belong to Lucius Malfoy. I began to edge towards the door Draco had left through, leaning down to peer through the keyhole. Shadowed glimpses met my eyes of a marble fireplace, grand and flickering with the flames that kindled below it. Two figures stood by armchairs, looking for all the world as if they had been there all evening. Except, where Draco was concerned, I knew slightly better.

"-Draco, come here."

My heart, which I had been slightly unable to keep track of these past few minutes, suddenly leapt to the regions of my throat as Malfoy moved forwards towards hunched silhouettes just out of the light of the flames. One of them was shoved forwards, a slight figure that perhaps I could recognise if I remembered the times I had seen him in the corridors, or in occasional lessons. That famous boy whose name everyone knew.

"Well, boy?" Said a horrible, rasping voice that I felt I knew from somewhere unpleasant.

"-Is it Harry Potter?" Lucius Malfoy sounded excited, his tones strained with anticipation as he turned on his son; whose expression I couldn't really make out. _Please Draco_, I thought desperately, my fingernails digging furiously into my palms,_ lie, please, please lie_.

"I can't- I can't be sure." His voice was still slightly breathless, but in that moment, I had never felt more relieved, the moment dying as Lucius Malfoy grabbed his son, pushing him forwards.

"But look at him more carefully, look!"

It was like a dream, I thought, looking into the slightly blurred scene as a detached, unknown spectator. And everything was resting on Draco right now.

"Now we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr Malfoy?" I suddenly recognised the voice with a sharp intake of breath. Greyback was here. It seemed that this evening was dredging up quite a few nightmares for me.

"Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

He was pushed further towards Harry, his face paler than normal in the glittering light of a chandelier overhead.

"I don't know." His tone was firmer than before, and he struggled from his father's grasp, striding back towards the fireplace, away from the huddle of prisoners.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa Malfoy said softly, and I wondered why I didn't feel relieved yet, as if some terrible hunch wouldn't let me relax, "-remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

Over by the fireplace, Draco flinched at the mention of the two names. A faint memory made me wonder idly just who he had been made to perform the Cruciatus Curse on.

"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback's voice growled as he pushed another figure forwards. This time, I recognised her instantly.

"Hermione." I whispered, my fingers pressing against the door, my brain frantically working. How to get out of this, how to-

"I...maybe...yeah."

The hesitation wasn't going to work forever, I realised. Lucius Malfoy was too far into his stride. Draco had turned away from the group, not even looking at the group as Lucius turned his gaze onto another, tall, redheaded figure.

"But then that's the Weasley boy! Draco, look at him-"

I pulled my ear away as I heard more feet in the corridor; the sound of heeled boots on wood. That strange sense of foreboding grew stronger.

"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?"

I didn't recognise the voice, but as the figure moved into view my throat seemed to constrict. Hell, there had been enough posters with her face on dotted around the place before nowadays. Bellatrix Lestrange.

Almost unconsciously, Malfoy's eyes flicked towards the door I was hiding behind, my palms sweating as I tried to think of something, anything to solve this situation. My brain came up empty. I pushed myself away from the door, stepping back so I couldn't hear any reply that might come. I felt sick.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had crossed the room and was staring out at the darkly lit, cold corridor. Taking a tentative step out the door, I realised for the first time that I was only wearing thin socks on my feet, and I shivered at the contact to the cool wood.

This was stupid, I thought dully, yet unable to stop myself walking. If Bellatrix Lestrange was here, just who else was?

The voices in the drawing room were growing raised, arguing. Just a few metres away, an old Grandfather Clock was ticking calmly, oblivious to the dark events playing out around it. My feet were just crossing another antique rug when a screech made me jump a foot in the air.

"STOP!"

My heart hammering, I realised it was the voice of someone in the room, but that didn't stop me shrinking against one of the panelled walls, seriously considering for the first time simply disapparating. But what exactly would that make me?

There was a loud bang, the strip of space beneath the drawing room door and the wooden floor flashing red.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?" Roared a voice.

"_Stupefy! Stupefy!_"

I winced at the sound of people falling to the floor; heavy limbs falling on the floorboards. I needed to do something, anything. But I was a seventeen year old girl and certainly not lucky enough to run into that room and make it out in once piece.

"-Be quiet!"

The voice screamed the word, and before I could move, frozen to the spot in horror, rapid footfalls came towards the door, and opened it.

Malfoy stared back at me, his eyes surely as wide as mine were right now. His lips mouthed my name silently, as if he was despairing at my incapacity to remain in one place for a time. Behind him, dark, unconscious figures were hovering. I followed the threads of light that were dragging them forwards like limp puppets to the tip of Malfoy's wand.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, detaching myself from the wall,

Malfoy shut the door before replying, looking at the unconscious figures bobbing almost comically next to us,

"I'm doing what my family told me to." He replied in the same, shaky whisper. The words confused me; it was as if he was trying to be ironic, "Please get out of here."

"They've really caught them haven't they?" I whispered, searching his eyes. He'd adopted that blank, dull expression I knew so well from last year. He was unreadable.

He looked at me a moment, studying my horrified expression, and his forehead crumpled as his shoulders sagged slightly. I almost didn't catch the word he whispered.

"Yes."

"-You have no idea of the danger we're in!" The same, hysterical voice was shrieking again and Malfoy flinched slightly.

"Meg, you need to go."

"I'm not leaving you, or them." I said fiercely, too scared to raise my voice beyond a strangled croak, "They've got Harry, and if they work that out then everything is over."

"Meg-" Malfoy whispered urgently, but I wasn't in the mood to be told to leave again.

"You can't-"

"No, Someone's coming,"

I had so little warning all I could do was dive towards the shadows of the next wall; shrinking back against the Grandfather Clock as the door was thrown open once more.

"Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" A voice was saying, rasping horribly over the words. My breath caught in my throat as I realised it was Greyback. I didn't dare move; pressing my back against the wall, the gentle vibration of the ticking clock beside me.

I could just make out Greyback shoving past Malfoy, not sparing him a glance as he pushed him aside. He held his wand out, forcing forwards the group captives. Ron and Harry, I realised with a jolt. No Hermione.

I waited as long as I dared, my chest rising and falling so rapidly it felt like I had run a marathon. I could sense that Malfoy was still there, the unconscious figures still hovering in that limp, somewhat sick way.

I couldn't stand it any longer and pushed myself forwards, running towards him, heedless of the noise I created,

"What are they doing to her?" I asked him hoarsely, a few centimetres from his chest "What are we going to do?"

"I don't _know_." He implored, "I don't-"

He was cut off as one of the unconscious figures suddenly became slightly less conscious.

"_Stupefy!_" The figure grunted, his wand brandishing at Malfoy. He missed by a metre; Malfoy stepping back as the wall behind him received the brunt of the blast.

Malfoy and I both flicked out wands at the same time. Malfoy's jinx made the man slump back silently. My hex made his skin erupt in boils.

Malfoy started to say something, and at that moment the door to the drawing room opened again.

Narcissa Malfoy took in the scene before her; her pale eyes just like her son's. I stood, frozen in place, looking at her as her eyes travelled from Draco, to the unconscious figures on the floor. And then to me.

"Draco-" She began, the cold tone that she had been speaking with cracking softly.

But a scream split the air before she could finish; a horrible, pain filled scream that sent shivers down my spine. Somewhere in the house, someone was yelling Hermione's name.

"Oh my God-" I whispered softly, starting forwards towards the drawing room as another scream split the air.

"No." Narcissa's hands dug painfully into my arms and shoved me backwards, "Get _out_."

"She's torturing her!" I didn't care that my voice was rising, my hands scrabbled at her surprisingly strong grip, trying to break free, "What's _wrong _with you people?"

There was a bang like a gunshot and I shot backwards, slamming painfully into the wall behind me.

"Draco, get in the drawing room."

"You can't-"

"You think I want you to see that?" Narcissa whispered, "You think I don't wish we had a choice? Get _in_ the drawing room."

I tried struggling to my feet, but my socks slipped on the rug and I fell backwards again. Another scream split the air.

"How can you let this happen?" I asked her in a muted, heavy tone, finally finding my balance and getting unsteadily to my feet. "How can you just stand there?"

"Cissy! What are you doing?"

Narcissa flinched at the sound of Bellatrix's voice, her eyes not moving from my face.

"Get out of my house." She finally said in a low, levelled tone.

"Don't-" Draco started to say, just as another scream echoed down the corridor,

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix's voice was screaming, "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione's voice, wracked with sobbing came through the wall, "We've never been inside your vault...it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" Bellatrix's voice climbed higher as she screamed the words, "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find this out easily!" Lucius's voice interrupted Bellatrix's derisive tones, sounding excited still. "Draco! Fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

"Go, Draco," Narcissa said, as Draco stirred in protest, "_Now_."

Perhaps it was looking at me sagging against the wall, trying to find an opening to get past Narcissa the moment she lowered her wand, or perhaps it was the stern, unfailing look in his mother's eyes. But he left, and I didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Who are you?" Narcissa asked me, her voice strained. I was surprised she was bothering to lower her voice at all. Why didn't she just hand me over to Bellatrix?

"Let me help her." I said desperately, as Hermione's sobbing flowed through to the corridor. "Please, why don't you do anything?"

"I'm protecting my family." She said sharply, although her wand wobbled slightly.

"DOB-!"

The exclamation turned both of our attentions away. The shout seemed to have come from the cellar.

Out of the dark corridor, Draco emerged once more, his lips set in a tight line; a goblin in his grip. Its face was swarthy and covered in bruises.

Narcissa stepped back to let her son into the drawing room, and I used her slight distraction to step forwards.

"_No_."

I skidded backwards again, just as a loud _crack_ issued through the air.

"What was that?" Someone shouted. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"

An unexplainably wonderful surge of hope shot through me at those words. Please, I thought desperately, please let them get out of here. Before it was too late.

"Draco-no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"

The sudden silence in the drawing room was eerie, and the door was wrenched open again; Malfoy moving past his mother and beckoning me with his eyes.

"Meg," He said softly, signalling me with his hand. I gave one last look at Narcissa's blank expression before following him.

"What's happening?" I asked, my voice husky from whispering for so long, "Is Hermione ok?"

"I don't know." He replied, his tone slightly faltering, "I...think so." He stopped walking for a moment and turned to meet me, "But Meg-"

He looked at me, and I was completely taken aback when he _smiled_ at me.

"What?" I asked, wondering what on earth there was to smile about.

"I think," He breathed in my ear, "That there's a house elf in the cellar."

I couldn't quite grasp why that was good news.

We arrived at another door; and Draco pushed me towards the cover of the shadows before opening it. I heard him conversing in swift, cold tones with a man on the other side, before he came out again, footsteps following him. I shrank back as a small, slightly shrunken looking man passed by me, smelling strongly of sweat. Draco watched him go before pulling me gently out from the cover of the wall, bending down so he could look at me properly,

"I need to go back to the drawing room, and seriously Meg, you need to get out of here."

"What do you think I am, some kind of idiot?" I asked a little heatedly, "Hermione's just been tortured and sat there and did nothing. I'm not running away now!"

"I don't have time to argue about this Meg!"

"Yeah?" I said, an idea lighting in my head, "Well, neither do I."

I was running before he could even move to pull me back. I dashed back down the passageway, past the door to the drawing room and into the room where I had apparated to. My wand was in my grasp now, my fingers twined tightly around it as I crept towards the other entrance to the room.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The cry made me jump, and as soon as I took a step towards the door, someone yelled, "_Expelliarmus!_"

"Yes." I muttered triumphantly, recognising Ron's tone as shouts split the air; the sound of spells hitting targets accompanying it.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

I staggered forwards, my hand pressing down on the doorknob as my ears fixed keenly on the events on the other side. Silence had fallen, pressing down on the air like a wet blanket.

"I said drop them!" Bellatrix's voice again.

"Alright!"

Harry's voice, I realised with a jolt of recognition. My grip on the doorknob tightened.

"-Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

Draco hesitated too long, and Bellatrix flicked her wand at him. He staggered forwards, snatching a fallen wand from the floor.

I was just about to yank the door open when a hand tugged at the hem of my t-shirt. A tiny hand.

"What the-"

"You'll be excusing me, miss, but Dobby needs to get into that room!"

"I..." I didn't precisely know what to say to the small house elf that was peering back at me with enormous, orb-like eyes. I hand't known what Draco had meant about the house elf in the cellar, but apparently this _was_ good news.

"I mean...you want..."

"You are a friend of Harry Potter miss!" The elf continued, making me wince as his whispering didn't quite constitute as quiet, "Dobby has seen you in the Come and Go room, miss!"

"I...wait, you're going to help Harry?"

"Dobby is going to drop the chandelier on his old masters, miss!"

"Well, you've certainly got style Dobby," I muttered in a low voice, considering his proposal for a second, "Ok, I'll open the door a bit, and you do what you need to do."

"Very brave miss, Dobby will unscrew the chandelier!"

I twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open; letting the tiny elf slip beside me.

"-after what you've done tonight." Bellatrix was saying, and I saw with a stab of panic that she held Hermione in her arms; a deadly sharp looking knife pressed against her throat.

Before she could speak again, a rasping, creaking noise punctured the tense scene. I knew where to look, but it took the others a little while longer to locate the noise.

"Move Draco." I muttered, pleading with the tall figure that wasn't looking my way. But he didn't.

And then the chandelier dropped.

Bellatrix screamed and leapt backwards, leaving Hermione to topple to the floor. Shards of glass and crystal crashed to the floor and shattered; showering the room like deadly confetti. I saw Draco doubling over, and leapt out the cover of the doorway, going completely unnoticed in the chaos. Ducking round the view of anyone, rushing past the unconscious form of Lucius Malfoy, I came up behind Draco just as Narcissa pulled him away from any further harm.

"Draco," I called out, just as Narcissa emitted a shriek,

"Dobby!"

Heads turned towards the door I had just recklessly sprinted out of as the house elf came into view; his gaze fixed on Bellatrix,

"You must not harm Harry Potter!" He said forcefully, pointing a finger at her.

"Kill him Cissy!" Bellatrix shrieked but before Narcissa could even move, if in fact, she was going to, there was a loud _crack_ and Narcissa's wand spun away, skidding over the floorboards.

"You dirty little monkey!" Bellatrix screamed, beside herself, "How dare you take a witch's wand? How dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf! And Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Ron!" Harry bellowed, "Catch and go!"

I was backing away; hoping fervently that nobody would look towards me, trying to shrink behind Malfoy.

I looked up in time to see Harry, Ron, Hermione, the goblin and Dobby disapparate; the loud bang making me blink, so that even after he was gone, I could still see the light of the fire reflected in Dobby's enormous eyes. Bellatrix was screaming, and I realised with horror that I was alone in a roomful of Death Eaters, with the Dark Lord on his way here.

I didn't think twice.

I lunged forwards for Draco; my hands clasping round his arm.

And I disapparated.


	26. Chapter 26

**I'm so so so sorry.**

**Really, I have no excuse for not updating this week- except...ummm there was a shower of rainbows and loads of camels fell from the sky and then there was a thing with a thing...and ffhsjfsk.**

**Yeah.**

**I hope this things-heating-up chapter makes things better :3**

**Wherein Terry short-circuits and we run for our lives.**

The ground slammed into me long before I could regain any sense of direction. All I knew was that I was gripping Malfoy's arm as tightly as I could; my fingers hurting in my desperation to keep him close to me.

My nose stung with the cold night air that prickled my face; wet frost clinging to my knees as I scrambled upwards.

"Where are we?" Malfoy was saying, as he staggered to his feet, pulling me with him, "Meg, what have you done?"

"Like I was going to leave you there." I replied heatedly, my grip still tightly on him, "You Know Who was coming! Think of what he would have done!"

"It's hardly going to look any better that I ran away," When he spoke his voice was panicked, but underneath that a wash of relief was in his eyes. Therefore, his next words threw me slightly. "Meg, let go of my arm."

"If I do that you're just going to apparate back-"

"I can't just leave, he'll think I've run off!"

"Well, you technically have."

"Meg, _please-_"

"He'll torture you!" My tone turned to a shout before I could control myself, "He'll hurt you and I'm not going to let you go and martyr yourself for something you didn't do."

"Well, since you're being technical, I _did _notice the house elf in my basement that helped Potter escape."

"Shut up!" I was completely failing to see any kind of humour in this, and the alarm in my chest was growing, "Malfoy, you are _not_ apparating anywhere."

His eyes softened slightly as he looked down at me, and I realised just how serious he had been about wanting to go back.

"My family are there," He finally said.

"And how is your presence going to help them in any way?"

"He'll punish them for me being gone."

"He'll punish them anyway. And I'm not letting you go and get yourself tortured. There's nothing you can do."

"You're a bit hypocritical, you know that?" His voice wasn't angry or raised anymore, but I still felt a pang of worry hit me at his words, "You go all out trying to stop things, and you won't let me go and help my family?"

"You won't help them though will you?" I said softly, "Not really."

He didn't reply, not that he had to. We both knew I was right. If Malfoy went back now, all he'd do was hurt himself too, and a lot worse than that if he decided to be a hero. I dared to imagine the situation in my shoes, and shuddered at the prospect. Beneath my fingers, I could feel him trembling.

The air seemed to grow colder as we stood there, my hand still pressed against his arm; the contact a little strange. I sincerely hoped I was doing the right thing here.

"Where are we?" Malfoy finally, the tone of his voice gentler than before; defeated. I still was too uneasy to let go of him though.

"We're on the hill outside my town." I told him, looking over my shoulder at the small mass of streetlights far behind us. I began to ramble, hoping to distract him, force my way into that dazed look in his eyes, "I used to come here and climb up that tree when my family was annoying me, or when I was missing Hogwarts."

Malfoy was silent for a while, looking on at the tangled tree before us. It appeared bare despite the presence of spring.

"It's funny," He said tonelessly, "But I always thought that castle was a pathetic excuse for a school. I wish I could have seen it through your eyes."

I made a small noise of contemplation, at a loss to explain why he could ever have thought that. I remembered him last year, confessing how much he couldn't wait to leave. It made me feel ill that that was exactly how I felt now.

"It feels like a bit of a waste." Malfoy finished.

"Maybe," I agreed in a small voice, "I guess you have to appreciate what you have whilst it's there."

The tree wasn't bare, I realized, as I looked a little closer, Malfoy's fingers winding around mine. There were small buds on it; feeling nervously at the frosty air, as if afraid of being pushed back by the cold. But in a few months, they'd be in full bloom.

If something like that could still survive under such a cold and oppressive time of year, I pondered, as I looked at Malfoy surreptitiously through my lashes, then why couldn't we?

The only thing was, summer wasn't far away for that flower, and I had no idea how long we would be trapped in our winter.

* * *

><p>"He did <em>what? <em>You did_ what? What?"_

I got the feeling Terry was short circuiting.

Looking up from the lone survivor of the Easter Eggs I had acquired over the holiday, I met his panicked gaze, trying to reword what I had just told him in a manner that would dull the matter down a little. Except that was a little hard.

"I said, I um...kinda went to the Malfoy's at Easter."

"Not to meet the parents, I take it?" Antony cut in, his face a little pale despite the weak smile on his face.

"Well, no."

"You could have got yourself killed!" Terry said in a hoarse, despairing tone. "That place was crawling with Death Eaters!"

"But I wasn't killed." I said patiently, taking a mouthful of chocolate, "And it all could have gone a lot worse, really."

Terry shot an exasperated look at Antony, who he was evidently hoping would swoop down with something that would make me admit just how stupid me going to the Malfoy's had been. Like I needed to say it out loud.

"Come on," I finally said, when it became clear Antony didn't have anything to say besides a very large shrug, "I couldn't think of anything else to do- no, I _didn't_ think at all. I get it, it was reckless. But looking back on it, I would have done it all again. Although next time I wouldn't get found by Narcissa Malfoy and would have successfully got those guys out of there sooner."

"And _then_ you'd have definitely been killed." Terry mumbled. I ignored him, settling back in the chair as I demolished the rest of the Easter Egg.

I knew neither of the two people who had known I was at the Malfoy's had mentioned my being there as soon as we had arrived back in the castle. The two Carrows were as foul as ever, and I even noticed (with a stab of vicious pleasure) that they even seemed a little jumpier than normal. But they paid as much attention to me as anyone else, which I could only be relieved about. I had the feeling that any DA meetings were far too risky right now. After Harry's escape, any Death Eater was going to be ruthless to prove their worth to their master.

It seemed odd to begin lessons the next day and be told we were to start preparing for our N.E.W.T's. Exams seemed like a foreign concept in this climate, and considering I barely got enough O.W.L's to get through my fifth year in a much milder environment, I was a little more than slightly concerned about how I was going to do this year.

"Maybe they'll swing it for me," I suggested idly to Terry as we headed out of a particularly gruelling Transfiguration class. The fingers on my left hand still felt a little fluffy from where my spell had hit me instead of the owl I was supposed to be turning into a pillow. "I mean, the Carrows won't want me around here for another year. I might incite rebellion or something."

Much to my dismay as to anyone else's; Hogwarts hadn't undergone a drastic, miraculous change over the holiday. It was still the same; still violent and dark, and a nightmare of its former self. Things had changed for the worse instead. People were missing; leaving the hallways slightly emptier, the hall less noisy. Ginny and other members of the DA hadn't come back. More families were on the run. It caused a painful twist in my stomach as I wondered where my mum was now. Somewhere abroad hopefully. Maybe she'd taken my suggestion about the North Pole after all.

But there was one significant thing I noticed instantly about the castle this term, with a force that seemed to strangle my insides. Something that made this term infinitely worse than any of the others.

Malfoy wasn't here.

At first, I thought he simply wasn't at lessons again, skipping them as he had been doing at the end of last term. But then he was never eating dinner in the Great Hall, and it was only when I overheard Zabini scornfully commenting on his absence that I was forced to admit to myself that along with all the other missing people in this castle, Draco was gone too.

It was weird just how much I noticed his absence; how big a hole it created. How unconsciously I had made his presence a vital part of my day; how much I enjoyed and almost needed those amused smirks he sent my way, or the secret smiles and exchange of words. And now that big hole was there, and I felt sick with worry.

That night, when I'd looked at that blossoming tree, had felt like some anomaly in my life. Like some malfunction that had interrupted everything; except that a malfunction would have implied that what had happened was bad.

Standing there, looking at that tree, my hand had tugged Malfoy away almost of its own accord, yet it was with a perfectly clear mind that I had led him back to my house, stealing in though the front door like some thief. I hadn't realised how late it was until I saw the note my mum had pinned to my door, reminding me that when she saw me tomorrow I was in big trouble for sneaking off so suddenly. At the time, I didn't really register these words, and instead had pushed my bedroom door open; Malfoy silent behind me.

He'd looked weird in my room, I had later decided; his face one I would never have expected to see in here; the place where posters of Babbity Rabbity had slowly faded to those of Quidditch teams and that hairy rock band I loved a little too much, and where the shoes that scattered my floor had slowly changed and grown in size. He looked as if I had let him into a corner of my mind, a part of me that nobody else at Hogwarts had really ever seen; not those soft toys that stared dully from their heap in the corner of the room; or that low-lying alcove I always hit my head against; or the rather mangled looking-wardrobe where Sampson liked to perch. All of it was there for his inspection.

He smiled at me.

Neither of us said much, because really, when you've just come from a house full of Death Eaters bent on calling the Dark Lord into their house, what is there to say? Instead, he lay there on my bed, me curled up beside him, trying to imagine from what world this had sprung from; because I was used to a world of torture and tainted things. Not a world where I could look into Malfoy's grey eyes and feel a peacefulness wash over me that I barely recognised as utter contentment.

There, in a small gap between everything horrible that was going on; a small part of paradise had found its way to me. Sure, it was a long way from perfect, and I could still feel his heart beating fast beneath his jumper; still feel the sweat that had matted the back of my hair, but neither of us particularly cared. There had been things I'd wanted to say, words I'd wanted to whisper as the stars outside my window slowly moved with the dying night, but I couldn't speak them. My eyelids had closed, Malfoy's skin warm against my fingers as he breathed gently; the only sound my ears heard.

And when I'd woken up the next day, he had gone, the creased sheets where he had laid the only sign that he'd been there at all.

Perhaps I'd been stupid to assume he was safe; that peaceful look he had worn as he'd looked back at me ingrained in my memory of him. Perhaps he'd gone back too soon, and my stomach twisted as if I were about to be sick at the thought of him anywhere near You Know Who. Only the layers of Death Eaters and Dementors and Snatchers that were patrolling the school stopped me sneaking out to Hogsmeade to apparate to the Malfoy's. And even then it was tempting to simply try my luck.

Except that it was usually reliably thin on the ground.

It was a rainy evening when we sat in the common room on a Tuesday night midway through the term; Antony balancing a half-hearted game of Exploding Snap on his knees as Padma looked over from the other side of the armchair; a carefully calculated distance out from the blast radius. In the background, the radio fuzzed and blurred above the crackling of the fire and the low murmur of tired voices.

"I'm _bored_." I muttered, leaning my head back against the armchair so I could glimpse Terry as he frowned at his copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

"Why don't you start revising for N.E.W.T's?" He suggested in a flat tone, not sparing me a glance.

I made a 'pwwt' sound.

"Of course, _that's_ going to help me feel more amused."

Terry made a tired sound, and was about to reply with what was sure to have been crushing logic when the radio emitted a sudden, jovial laugh.

"All right!" Michael's voice yelled from across the room, "I got the password!"

"Eh?" I asked eloquently.

"Potterwatch!" Antony said excitedly, just as the pack of cards exploded.

It took a while for the room to calm down, Michael eagerly trying to hush everyone, and Antony trying to brush off soot from his face. By the time everyone had made it to the small radio perched beside the fire, the broadcast was fully underway.

"Turn it up!" I exclaimed, lunging for the volume knob and yanking it round all the way.

We crowded round it, as if it were something that had fallen suddenly and unexpectedly from the sky; the blurry voice that was coming out of it the only sound to be heard.

"-and that's why we don't advertise fertilizer on this programme," Lee Jordan was saying, and I felt immediately put out that I had missed the beginning of that story, "But I think we should move on from complaints from listeners, because this time, there is something rather important to say-"

"What did he say?" Asked a second year.

"Shut up!" Michael, Antony and I told him instantly.

"It has been confirmed," Lee continued, "As there were a hell of a lot of witnesses, that early today Harry Potter and two accomplices broke into Gringotts Wizarding Bank in central London-"

"_WHAT_?" Terry blurted out. I was so amazed this had unearthed such a reaction from him, an exclamation that was usually more associated with me, that I nearly missed Lee's next words,

"-We have received reports that the boy with the lightning scar this morning managed to enter to the high security bank and left -get this viewers-by breaking free a dragon and riding it up through the bank itself. After literally fleeing the scene he left Diagon Alley and all those nasty Death Eaters in turmoil."

I felt my heart lurch in a wild, unstoppable disbelief. Why had Harry broken into Gringotts? Was it something to do with what had happened at the Malfoy's? Wow, my brain added in a small voice, I wished Malfoy was here, so much it hurt.

"No word or ideas yet as to why Potter was there in the first place, but whatever you're up to Harry, we like your style! As you can see, listeners, Harry is very much alive and kicking. We urge all of you to keep your heads down though, as the Death Eaters and likely going to be just a little bit miffed about this. As always, keep strong and safe. Thoughts are going out to all those who are suffering, but just remember Harry is out there; the Chosen One who is going to sort all this out. In the meantime, never give up hope! Goodnight."

The broadcast ended, the dull monotone of noise resounding over our heads.

"Wow." I said softly.

"A dragon." Antony repeated in the same, awed tone.

"_Gringotts_!" Padma echoed.

"Wow." Someone concluded.

We sat there in a stunned silence, and I didn't know about anyone else, but my head was racing. Images of dragons flashed through my head, drowning out much logic. That hopefulness that I had always associated with Harry was back, nestling itself into my heart and giving it wings.

"We need to go to dinner," Terry said, breaking through my reverie as he checked his watch, "I wonder if anyone else got to here that?"

"We have to tell them!" I said excitedly, clambering to my feet, "This is the best news we've heard! Why did he break in there? What for?"

"Who knows?" Antony grinned, pulling Padma up with him, "But it's awesome!"

We left the common room, still babbling animatedly, drunk on the news of Harry's actions. The exhilaration in my chest was quelled somewhat by entering the Great Hall; meeting the glum, downcast faces of the students that were already at the tables. Up ahead, I saw with a dull jolt that the Carrows were there; standing painfully near to where Dumbledore used to at the start of each term; his eyes sparkling as he had addressed his gathered school. A small stab of pain hit me as I remembered the glittering gold surroundings of those better days; glowing orange and warm like the light of the candles that had scattered the sky.

"Come on, Meg," Terry said gently, prodding my arm. I became aware I had come to a stop, staring up at the staff table, and I shook myself; forcing my legs forwards.

I followed Antony towards the Gryffindor table he was making a beeline for; as always feeling my eyes drifting hopefully towards the Slytherin table. Nothing.

Antony, meanwhile had found Seamus, who was currently stabbing moodily at a plate laden with potatoes. I glowered at them. They would always look too like rat brains for me.

"We've got something to tell you!" Antony said hastily, his grin lighting up his face like a beacon.

"Antony," Terry muttered warningly, "Keep your voice down."

"Hey, where's Neville?" I asked blankly, having scanned the assembled Gryffindors clustered around Seamus, "He would love to hear this."

"Neville?" Seamus' face split into a rather devious grin, "Guess I've got something to tell you too! They went after him this morning- the Carrows- at first they went after his gran-"

"What?"

"Nah don't worry, she got away," Seamus gave a large grin, "She's got quite a good Reducto Curse on her has Neville's gran. Anyway, Neville's gone to the Room of Requirement; it's the only safe place for him here."

"Like a hideout?" I contemplated the idea, my eyes drifting off towards the Carrows again. The thought of the Death Eaters going after Neville's gran was a horrible contemplation, but I suppose it was like my mum had predicted. They were going after people to make us behave now. I was suddenly irretrievably glad that my mum was on the run. Not even I knew where she was.

"Anyway," Seamus said, seeming a little pleased with himself over the mood he had created, "What's this about, Goldstein? What did you want to say?"

"Harry broke into Gringotts, Seamus!" Antony blurted out, just as Terry made a movement as if to stop him talking. Beside me, Padma stiffened.

A shadow fell over us; blotting out the dim light that was coming from a few, wispy candles.

"What did you say?" Said a voice that was sweet with menace.

Antony paled, and I screwed my eyes shut briefly, wishing that it wasn't Alecto Carrow standing beside us, when, really, it could never be anyone else.

"I..." Antony's eyes were wide, and I wished, just for once, we could have been allowed to have this small victory that Harry had given us without it being marred.

"He didn't say anything." Terry said quickly, and my heart lurched as he stepped forwards slightly,

"Terry-" I began,

"I said he didn't say anything." Terry said again, his voice quiet and determined.

The room had suddenly gone very hushed; eyes flickering towards us; wide with alarm and fear.

A muscle in Alecto's jaw twitched.

I leapt forwards with a cry as she reached back and brought her arm crashing into Terry's jaw, sending him reeling backwards,

"No!" I screamed, shoving her back.

Oops.

"How DARE you?" She screeched, drawing her wand. My mind briefly allowed me time to wonder exactly how many times she had said that to me, "_Cruc-"_

"_Stupefy!_" Terry yelled.

Alecto was blasted off her feet, Terry's spell sending her crashing to the floor; her sharp cry of pain meeting total silence.

"Wow Terry-" Antony began to say, but suddenly there was a burst of light, and Terry was thrown backwards as Amycus came running down the gap between the tables, his face twisted in fury. Instinctively, I moved before he could get any closer to my friend, but Seamus got there first.

The spell Amycus threw hit Seamus squarely in the face and he let out a cry. Pulling out my wand, I heard myself shout _'Stupefy!'_ at the exact same time as three other voices.

Amycus bellowed as he was thrown backwards into the table; slamming down on the hard surface and causing the cutlery there to rattle. Breathing heavily, I shook my hair out my eyes, and saw he wasn't going to be moving for a while.

"Urm." Antony exhaled in a shaky voice, "What now?"

"Run." I muttered, grabbing Terry's arm. Terry, however, shook me off,

"Just thought you ought to know," He called to the stunned onlookers, "Harry Potter broke into Gringotts today. Here's to the Chosen One!"

Somewhere, someone let out a cheer. I looked on, astounded, as the whole hall erupted into a chorus of cheering and yelling.

Until I saw Alecto stirring.

"We need to go." I said quickly, seizing Terry's arm once more, Antony's in my other hand, and beginning to move towards the doors to the Entrance Hall.

They clued in at what I meant when Alecto staggered to her feet.

"Run!" I shouted, and we took off down through the crowd of students; Seamus, Padma, Antony, Terry and I legging it towards the doors. Above my head, I saw a spell flash over us; slamming into the wall as we hurtled through the doors and up the marble staircase, sprinting towards the Grand Staircase,

"Where are we going?" Antony yelled as Alecto's screams filled the air,

"Follow me!" I called back, hurtling ahead as I leapt up the first flight of stairs, thankful I'd never had the time to eat anything. Or it would be making a reappearance as I leapt up the next flight of stairs.

By the time we reached the seventh floor we were wheezing, ridiculously out of breath as we kept moving; my skin prickling as if I was expected a spell to collide with me at any second.

"The room?" Terry coughed, wiping his forehead as we jogged through the tapestry-strewn corridor,

"Yeah." I panted, racing forwards to the familiar tapestry and casting a nervous glance over my shoulder. Who knew how long we had until Alecto came round that corner?

_Please,_ I thought _we need a place to hide, we need a place to hide, we need a place to hide_.

The rumbling noise of a door grating into the wall made my heart lurch with relief. Not waiting another second I seized the door handle and shoved the door open; falling into the room; Terry and the other close on my heels.

We stood there, hands clasped on our knees as we tried to catch our breath; the only sound for the next few moments coughing and wheezing.

"I think we lost her." Antony said, pressing his ear against the door, "But this should be safe anyway."

"I'll bet."

The voice made us look up quickly. Standing by one of the practice dummies that I had so frequently blown up, was Neville grinning from ear to ear.

"You guys finally decided to come and say hi then?" He smirked. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know Terry," I grinned back, "He just doesn't know the meaning of conspicuous."

Terry had the decency to give me a rueful grin.


	27. Chapter 27

**Bleurgh I failed again- I'm so sorry guys.**

**I got swamped in essays and Spanish homework and all those good things.**

**But at least this way we're all savouring the last few chapters right? Right?**

**Wherein four is a crowd where Puffapod bushes and secrets are concerned.**

**Also, someone comes to destroy our castle. **

Days came and went; instilling in me an unexplainable restlessness, one that settled over me, thick and heavy. Waiting there in the Room of Requirement- as more people came; more hammocks were slung across the walls; the flags and banners scattered about the rafters, hanging not only blue and red, but yellow too- I _knew_ I was waiting. But I didn't exactly know what for.

It was indescribably weird to have so many students filling up the room; a room that had remained so secret for so long. Now it felt exposed but clandestine at the same time; the DA in the minority against all the students that were arriving here; escaping the ever-increasingly tyrannical clutches of the Carrows.

It was the second day of my being in the room when Jade arrived. Before that, the worry in me was constricting my chest; worry that was not only for my sister, but for a select few other people too. But now, with her hammock slung not far from mine, I felt a temporarily relieved. For once, I might be able to get away with my rash actions. My family were as safe as they could be.

But I still couldn't sleep.

Sampson had found his way into the room one day, a letter clasped in his beak. I had genuinely remained clueless as to who had sent it until I had ripped it open and found only a short collection of sentences, but a collection that had made my heart pound nonetheless.

_Something big is coming. Please be careful. I want to be there with you, and I'm sorry I'm not. _

"But why aren't you, Draco?" I had asked of no one.

I had put the note under my pillow; my hands pressing down on it as I tried to let my mind rest, tried to close my eyes and sleep. But I couldn't.

I had lost count of how long we had been in the Room of Requirement when Terry came to sit down next to me; in the small space I had cleared by a rickety table where the radio sat. It had been playing constantly these past few days; Neville enthusing that Harry was still alive, still fighting, and that soon everything would sort itself out. It was sort of hard to share his positivity right now.

"Lavender's getting mad over toiletry matters again." He told me with a smirk, crouching down, "She and Seamus are yelling at each other."

"I reckon they fancy each other." I replied dully, my heart not really in the suggestion of the pairing.

"What's wrong?" Terry asked, then corrected himself as I looked across at him, "I mean, apart from the whole Death Eater attack, hiding out in a massive secret room thing for an unforeseeable time thing."

"I think that's just about all of it." I said with a humourless snort. "I guess it all just feels a bit hopeless."

"Well, there's nothing we can do." Terry said gently, "It all rests on Harry unfortunately. I mean, unfortunately for us who are sat waiting here. I'm sure he's doing great."

"Are your family safe, Terry?" I asked him in a low voice, "Have you heard from them?"

"I got a letter a few days ago," Terry sighed, "My parents have taken Rosie to France. I think they're safe if they stay there."

I'd only met Terry's sister once, who was every bit as solemn and serious as her elder brother, and felt infinitely glad that she was out of the way of all of this.

"Antony hasn't heard anything from his cousins though," Terry murmured, almost to himself, "But I suppose it's hard to when people are hiding out."

I remained silent at that, my heart twisting as I thought of mum, and Malfoy, and all the people out there in danger.

I was relieved when Neville clambered to his feet, stretching his arms,

"Well, I'm hungry." He announced at large, "Anyone want to come with me to Aberforth's?"

"Are you mad?" Seamus replied, "Why would we voluntarily go to a nutcase who hands out food that's the equivalent to eating soap?"

The room seemed to echo his sentiment, and it was with a shrug that Neville clambered up through the secret passageway and disappeared into the tunnel. The word 'soap' seemed to have touched a nerve with Lavender, and she and Seamus began bickering again shortly afterwards. I decided to stand by my earlier comment that they clearly liked one another. After all, in my somewhat lame experience, starting out arguing led on to good things.

I sat there in a bit of a stupor as the room returned to the quiet whisperings and talking of the occupants, the only raised voices coming from Lavender and Seamus' corner.

Idly, Terry got out his wand and started tapping at the radio, attempting to guess the password for _Potterwatch_. I watched him, my thoughts on gloomy things, trying to drag some humour forwards to my brain, to make myself genuinely smile. The room was growing dark, and mutters of '_lumos'_ could be heard as lamps sputtered to life.

I didn't look up as the door to the secret passage opened again, waiting for the waft of food that would make my stomach retract as if repulsed that I had brought it anywhere near the source.

"Look who it is!" Neville's voice came raised and excited, "Didn't I tell you?"

I looked up a few seconds slower than anyone else, and by the time the first shout had filled the room any chance of glimpsing the three figures next to Neville were impossible.

"HARRY!"

"It's Potter, it's POTTER!"

"Ron!"

"_Hermione!"_

I scrambled to my feet, jumping upwards to try and see over the head of the sudden cluster of people that had flooded to the entrance to the secret passageway; engulfing my view and dragging the figures down into the crowd. My ears pounded with the noise of the laughing, shouting and raised voices.

None too gently, I forced made my way through the crowd, pushing with everyone else as they jostled for a view.

And at last I saw him, there, standing at the entrance to the secret passageway; almost unrecognisable to the person I'd known from last year was Harry Potter, the boy who lived.

He looked different to the boy I had said goodbye to last summer, the boy who had the air of determination in his green eyes. It was still there, but almost concealed beneath straggled, dirty hair; hints of stubble on his jaw line. He was gazing around at us as if he wasn't the only one looking different. I wondered idly if I did.

"Ok, ok calm down!" Neville was calling, waving his arms in an attempt to quieten the crowd that were still shouting Harry's name, patting his back and laughing.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, and I stopped staring at him, which was probably getting a little creepy. Neville set off into a full scale explanation for him, Ron and Hermione, who were beaming around at everyone and I took a step back, my heart racing with excitement. Here it was, the thing I had been dreaming about since the start of term. Finally, finally something was happening.

"You didn't break into Gringott's?" Ernie was asking in disbelief and I looked back at the group, a grin splitting my face as Neville answered for them,

"They did! And the dragon's true too!"

The applause was broken by Antony and Seamus cheering.

"What were you after?" Seamus asked and I felt Terry stand straighter from his position next to me, as if that was thing he wanted to know the most.

But Harry didn't appear to be listening. Instead, he doubled over, turning away from the crowd as Ron stepped forwards to grab his arm.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville asked, leaping forwards as Harry straightened up, "Want to sit down? I expect you're tired aren't-?"

"No." Harry said firmly, and the gaze he flicked towards Ron and Hermione made my heart skip a beat slightly. Something was wrong. "We need to get going."

"What are we going to do then, Harry?" Seamus asked eagerly, "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" Harry repeated, somewhat blank. "well, there's something we- Ron, Hermione and I- need to do, and then we'll get out of here."

"Pardon?" I said loudly. Nobody seemed to hear.

"What d'you mean, 'get out of here?'" Neville repeated, his brows lowering slightly.

"We haven't come back to stay." Harry said, sounding irritated now, rubbing his forehead, "There's something important we need to do-"

"What is it?"

"I-I can't tell you."

I turned to Terry, about to start a muttered tirade on Chosen Ones these days, to find his gaze fixed intently on Harry. He didn't look annoyed, or put out at Harry's lack of interest in helping us. In fact, he looked downright excited.

"Um," I began blankly, poking his arm, "Why are you smiling?"

"I..." Terry trailed off as his gaze flicked to me, "Well...it's just an idea, it's a bit crazy, but it does make sense..."

He broke off, leaving me looking at him expectantly, as Harry's words broke through the crowd.

"Dumbledore left the three of us a job. And we weren't supposed to tell- I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the three of us."

"The sounds horribly familiar to when I wanted to be the fourth member of that trio of girls in Herbology back in the first year." I murmured pensively, "Apparently only three people can prune a Puffapod Bush. Did you know that?"

Terry ignored me.

Up by the entrance to the secret passageway, Neville seemed to be losing his patience.

"-Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Dumbledore- loyal to you."

Before Harry could reply the portrait swung open once again, and my eyes widened slightly as Dean Thomas, followed by Luna clambered out.

My heart was suddenly racing as I remembered the last time I had been in the same room as her. Malfoy, was all my brain managed to thud stupidly. Where was he?

"You're going to leave us in this mess?" Michael Corner was demanding, and I sensed a slight change in the happy mood that had been there a few minutes ago.

"No!" Ron protested angrily, "What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who-"

"Then let us help!" Neville put in furiously, "We want to be part of it!"

He was interrupted by the secret tunnel opening again, and I felt a grin spread onto my face as Fred and George clambered out into the room, Lee Jordan and Ginny with them.

"I'm so getting those three's autographs later." I mused in Terry's direction. "D'you reckon they'll sign it as Rapier and Rodent?"

"Meg, _listen_."

I couldn't see why I had to pay attention. Cho Chang was just emerging behind the newly arrived group, and the only thing I took away from it was that she was making eyes at Harry. Maybe Terry liked to gossip nowadays.

Ron, Hermione and Harry were whispering amongst themselves now, and the Herbology lesson flashback was growing a little bit stronger.

"I'm so glad that you let me prune your Puffapod Bush." I sighed.

"That sounds like a terrible chat-up line." Antony commented, from where he had just pushed through the crowd, Padma on his arm, her eyes shining with excitement. I sniggered, and made a mental note to use it as one in the future.

"Did they say 'Horcrux'?" Terry whispered hoarsely to me. Having been giggling over the implications of Puffapod Bush pruning, I could only shrug.

"Ok!" Harry called out, and the room instantly fell silent. I reigned in the sniggering. "There's something that we need to find, something that will help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone ever heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

His eyes met mine and his shoulders fell slightly when I did a fabulous impression of a startled rabbit. Even Terry looked blank.

"Well," Said Luna, in her same, almost mystified voice, "There's her lost diadem." Beside me, Terry made a 'oh' of realisation. I left him to it. "I told you about it, remember Harry?" Luna continued, "The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it."

"Yeah, but the lost diadem," Michael put in and, having been just about to say the same thing, I gave him a 'well done this time' look, "is _lost_ Luna. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" Harry asked. It was Cho who answered, and I definitely picked up on the hair toss she flashed Harry before speaking.

"Centuries ago they say. Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but," She turned towards the small cluster of Ravenclaws that I was standing in. "Nobody's ever found a trace of it have they?"

The startled rabbit look featured once more.

"Sorry," Ron asked, and I felt immensely glad that he asked the next question for my benefit, "But what _is_ a diadem?"

"It's a kind of crown," Terry said instantly, perhaps to make up for the fact he hadn't answered Harry's earlier question, "Ravenclaws' was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

"Awww, that would be so good." I moaned.

"-If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like," Cho was saying, "I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry?"

My snort came out a little louder than I had intended and a few scowls were shot my way.

Harry winced, his eyes flickering towards Ron and Hermione again. His lips moved as he whispered to them, and the sense of something coming hit me again, the foreboding that had constantly been dragging down at the corners of my mind.

"No," Ginny was saying, her tone slightly put out. I looked over to see Cho looking a little embarrassed. "Luna will take Harry, won't you Luna?"

"Oooh, yes, I'd like to." Luna put in as Cho began to sit back down. I watched them with amusement.

"Come on," I muttered in Terry's ear, pulling at his arm as Harry, Neville and Luna began to move off towards the door.

"What?" He asked blankly, "Where are you going?"

"Are you kidding? I'm not staying here while Harry goes off and does the cool stuff. Things are kicking off now."

"So you're just going to go leaping off after them whilst Alecto has no concerns about blowing your head off now?" Terry shot back instantly.

"Wow," I said, slightly sidetracked by his choice of reasoning, "You've developed quite the imagination."

"I'm serious Meg. You should probably stay here."

I released his arm, sticking my bottom lip out and feeling somewhat betrayed. Unfortunately, a few words from Terry weren't quite enough to quell the excitement that was rising in my chest. Just seeing them there, looking at Ron and Hermione, was the sight of what we had been fighting for; for them to come back here, for things to be put right.

I was about to move for the door, regardless of what he had said, when Fred began talking,

"Might as well let the Order know about this, George." He told his twin, twirling his wand between his fingers, "I vote you go back through that passage and apparate to Bill and Fleur's. Might as well get the rest of the DA with that coin. I lost mine."

"Same." I muttered.

"The Order?" Neville asked as George clapped Fred on the back, shoving him playfully sideways as he leapt back in through the passage.

"Not to worry Neville." Fred said cheerily, seemingly oblivious to the question, "They're the good guys. Speaking of, when is Harry going to get back?"

He looked towards Ron and Hermione, who shrugged, casting nervous looks at each other.

"It's hard to say-" Ron began.

"Lame." I interrupted before I could stop myself. As I had successfully acquired the attention of the room, I gave a mental shrug before continuing. "I mean, what's going on? Why can't you tell us?"

"I remember you." Fred said conversationally, looking at me curiously, "I threw a dungbomb at you once."

"Really? I'd totally forgotten."

"We can't tell you, Meg." Hermione said patiently, "It's just easier for you not to know."

"Yeah, this year has really been easy. Thank goodness we didn't have the burden of your secret or hell knows what might have happened."

Antony let out an odd titter, tried to turn it into a cough, and began choking.

Any counter argument Hermione might have summoned was drowned by the grating noise of the door to the secret passageway opening once more.

Out of the eleven people who scrambled out into the room, I only recognised five of them; George of course, along with four people who I knew instantly from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and the last man I knew as the best teacher I had ever had.

"Professor Lupin!" Antony exclaimed, still a little pink in the face, "What are you doing here?"

Before Lupin could answer the door to the outside corridor opened, and Harry dashed back into view, Luna on his trail, both panting, out of breath.

"Harry, what's happening?" Lupin asked sharply, running forwards to meet him,

"Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading the school-Snape's run for it- what are you doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army," Fred said, stretching lazily. Beside him, George looked indignant at the use of the word 'we'. "You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry, and the DA let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed."

"What first, Harry?" George asked, "What's going on?"

The room quietened as we all looked at Harry Potter; who was standing, watching all the eyes on him.

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organised. We're fighting."

The cheering that followed that was deafening. Terry grabbed me before the crowd that suddenly was converging towards the doors swept me away, and together we fought through the people to remain next to Antony and Padma.

"This is not going to end well!" Terry shouted to me, his voice pretty much lost over the excited talking and shouting,

"Awesome!" I yelled back.

"If You Know Who's coming," Antony said, pulling an irritated face as a second year stampeded past him, "What's he planning to do?"

Whether due to noise, fear, or not having the faintest clue as to how to answer, none of us replied.

Before I really could become conscious of where I was putting my feet, the crowd was already entering the Entrance Hall; toes stamping on mine and elbows crashing into my ribcage.

I had just turned round to yell at a fourth year to calm down or face my wrath when my eyes caught something that made my heart lurch, and stutter to what felt like a grating halt.

A flash of blonde hair, hair I'd never really seen on anyone else. I looked up and met those grey eyes.

Over the heads of the milling people, Draco Malfoy stood at the edge of the Entrance Hall.


	28. Chapter 28

**Random update yaaay!**

**Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter- it's great to see you all enjoying the story :) And we're soooo nearly finished now *gross sobbing* seriously what will I do with my life now? ****Seriously, someone tell me.**

**Wherein statues make bad rhymes and the battle begins.**

"Meg!"

Terry's voice was hoarse as he shouted my name over the noise, "Where are you going?"

He grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the hall, swept along with the crowd of people. Already, Malfoy seemed to slip away in the crowd even though I was pretty sure he hadn't moved.

"Terry!" I pushed against him, on tiptoes trying to see over the heads of the mulling people, "Terry, I see Malfoy."

"What did you say?" He called, trying to double back as we were pushed forwards,

"Malfoy!" I thought I had managed to raise my voice loud enough for him to hear; the shout breaking over the excited yelling and chattering. But even if he had heard, or had released me, I doubted I would be able to worm my way through the people to get to him. My heart was pounding in my chest at the sight of him; it had been him, I was _sure _of it. But why was he here, when he had been absent for the whole term? That feeling of foreboding was back, and the feeling I got stealing up through me was one that made it a little hard to breathe. I was afraid, and not really of the battle looming over us. I was afraid of what Malfoy was here to do, because something was telling me it wasn't to come and catch up on witticisms. I wanted to rush through all these exasperatingly excited people to talk to him, to look into the face I hadn't seen for weeks and to hear him speak, but at the same time I couldn't think of anything worse. Not if I went to him and saw that same, torn apart stare he had given me last year; that night everything had come falling down.

So I became a coward, and let Terry's grip on me and the crowd become excuses for why I couldn't go to Malfoy, and why I found myself staring at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall; the clear night shining stars down on me; blinking in the sky.

The hall was already buzzing with people; students in pyjamas still, though not one person was yawning. Dotted across the students, ghosts emitted their pearly white sheen, looking grave as they directed their gaze on Professor McGonagall, who stood at the front of the hall. The Fat Friar caught my eye, and gave me a mildly annoyed look before tetchily shuffling so he was looking back at McGonagall. I supposed that was my fault for laughing at his exorcism story last year.

"We have reason to believe," McGonagall began, and the shouting instantly died down; a hush sweeping the hall as eyes shifted to her, fixed and alert, "that soon Lord Voldemort will be arriving at this school, and anyone who stands in his path will be in grave danger."

The hall was so still now I could hear Terry breathing next to me. The looks of excitement were no longer there. Fear glinted in people's eyes, and my fists were bunched up in the fabric of my jumper. Uncontrollable, my eyes flicked to the hall door. Malfoy wasn't there.

"Therefore we are ordering a mass evacuation of this school, Evacuation will be overseen by Mr Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give you the word you will organise your house and take your charges, in an orderly fashion-" I snorted, "To the evacuation point."

"And what if we want to stay and fight?" Ernie Macmillan shouted, standing up to a fair bit of clapping and whooping.

"If you are of age," McGonagall said clearly, "You may stay."

"What about our things? Our trunks, our owls?" A young girl asked, and I flicked her a look. Did she really think Voldemort would step back so that Fluffy the owl could get out the school?

"We have no time to collect possessions," McGongall told the Ravenclaw, who I was heartily ashamed of having in my house at this moment in time, "The important thing is to get you out of here safely."

"Where's Professor Snape?" A girl shouted, and I straightened up. Neither he or the Carrows were here, and I was seriously crossing my fingers for an unfortunate mass tripping down the staircases.

"He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk." McGonagall replied, as people began to cheer, later slightly distracted as Harry moved up the hall. I wondered if he knew how much affect he caused; how many eyes turned to him with hope and excitement. "We have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects-"

Her lips kept moving, still speaking, but it was blotted out. A chill swept through the room, sending prickles over my skin as the candles flickered. Someone screamed.

"_I know that you are preparing to fight._" The voice seemed to come from the walls, icy and rasping through the air. "_Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood_."

His voice, because there was no one else's that it could belong to, was pounding against my eardrums; almost hurting my head as my fingers dug into my palms. Images filled my head, me unable to stop them as they flashed before my eyes of my friends dead, my family dead.

"_Give me Harry Potter, give me Harry Potter none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded."_ I held my breath, knowing it wasn't over yet, just before one final sentence pierced the room, stabbing my ears._ "You have until midnight." _

Eyes turned to Harry as the voice went; leaving with it an empty silent that felt pressed and unnatural; heavy on my ears.

"But he's there!" Someone screamed, a voice I unfortunately knew quite well. Pansy had gotten to her feet, her face contorted as she gestured at Harry, "Potter's _there_! Someone grab him!"

Any doubt, uncertainty and fear in me vanished as I leapt to my feet, drawing my wand from my sleeve. Pansy paled instantly, but that was probably more because of the seventy or so other students who universally got up and marched to stand before Harry, as one giving her a stone cold glare.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," McGonagall said coldly, and I was mildly reminded of her sarcastically reprimanding someone in class, "You will leave the Hall first with Mr Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."

A few people sniggered as the Slytherins got to their feet. I caught Zabini's eye, and very maturely stuck my tongue out.

McGonagall called again, for the Ravenclaws who weren't fighting to leave. My brain barely registered what she said. Instead, my eyes found Terry, as people ran between us, frantically talking and reaching for each other. His eyes met mine, and he gave a small, almost indistinguishable nod, as if this would never have ended any other way.

The moment was somewhat interrupted by the girl who hurtled into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Antony appeared by my side, as we both let our mouths drop. The girl dashed off into the crowd, completely hysterical, leaving Terry looking exceptionally confused.

"Um." His face turned a magnificent shade of red, as he stood frozen in place, "What was that about?"

I closed my mouth long enough to form a humorous response.

"I assume it's the whole 'we're all going to die so I might as well kiss all the Ravenclaws' kind of thing." I said, heaving a fake sigh, "Or maybe she just always fancied you."

"Meg!" Seamus' voice broke through our slightly sidetracked group, "Everyone's going up to get instructions!"

We joined the jostling and shoving as people slowly made their way to the platform at the front of the hall, where a selection of witches and wizards were standing, giving orders to the students reaching them. Terry was still pink in the face.

"You three should head up to the sixth floor," A tall, dark wizard told me when I reached earshot, "They'll be a group of fighters already there. Good position to work spells."

"Aye sir!" I with mock severity, tapping my fingers against my forehead in a salute. The wizard stared. I think I may have taken him aback slightly.

"Where's Padma?" Terry asked as we began to jog back through the crowds, out into the Entrance Hall; heading up the marble staircase.

"She's fighting up at Ravenclaw tower," Antony said quickly, leaping up the stairs, "But I think that's the safest place. Well, as safe as this place can be right now."

My mind had stopped spinning now, the buzzing fear replaced by surprising clarity, marred only by two nagging edges of doubt. Malfoy and Jade.

"Did you see my sister?" I asked my two friends quietly, as we ran up the stairs to the first floor, heading towards one of my more well-known short cuts, "Did you see if she left?"

"No." Terry replied, "She didn't leave. I think she was going to the Astronomy Tower."

The fear was back. I wished to the heavens that Jade had gone, that she had put herself somewhere safe. But who was I to talk? We just had to make sure we both got out of here.

It was horrible, to jog up through the floors of my school, my precious school, to have crashing and shouts issuing through its walls. Only a few months ago my biggest worry had been running into a Carrow round these corners, but now, it had somehow managed to get worse.

But this was it, I realised, throwing back a tapestry and running out onto the fifth floor, this was the final night of uncertainty and hope. Things would end, in whatever way they ended. This time tomorrow, I might be free. Or dead. But that wasn't really the alternative I was rooting for.

I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes.

We emerged out on the sixth floor to find it silent and empty. That alone sent a shiver along my spine, but as we quietly passed the empty portraits, I stopped at the window.

Pausing, I looked out through the rippling glass; my fingers touching the pane; illuminated a pale white as I looked out at the scene before me.

A thin, shimmering wall seeped through the air in front of me; delicate tendrils of white, transparent light shimmering through the air like veins. I watched as the lights converged on each other; closing together to form a barrier. It didn't feel safe though. I could almost imagine the dark shapes of men and Voldemort's alliances moving out there, watching the castle, our castle with hostile eyes.

"Meg," Terry's voice was soft, no doubt he had seen what I had, "We need to get moving. We've only got about ten more minutes."

I was moving, my feet dragging themselves forwards, about to pick up speed. But there was something, some indescribable feeling, the turned my head to look behind me, at the corridor spanning out towards the staircases.

And the figure I saw there made my heart leap.

"Draco!" The name burst from me before I could stop myself, a loud, shrill shout that sounded desperate even to my ears.

"Meg! Wait!"

I ignored Terry's shout, and ran, my feet blurring beneath me as I legged it down the corridor, tearing towards the staircases. Malfoy didn't hear my shout, not until I hurtled onto the stair just as it was leaving the floor; heading up towards the seventh.

"Malfoy."

He spun round as I called his name breathlessly, his face incredulous. For a ridiculous second, I thought he looked hopeful.

"Meg." Wow, I'd forgotten how nice it was to hear him say my name. I'd forgotten quite a few things actually, like how his eyes glittered grey and unreadable, or how his mouth moved as if he were about to genuinely smile, or just smirk. Now it was turned down, and the Malfoy from last year; the dejected, hopeless one was back. My heart sunk. "What are you still doing here?"

"You are kidding?" My gaze flickered away from him, to Crabbe and Goyle flanking his either side. I wondered how long it would take one of them to start firing hexes. "There's a battle going down in about five minutes. I'm not hiding."

"Of course you're not."

My eyes darted back to him. He almost sounded proud, or envious.

The stairs hit onto the seventh floor; the stone landing sliding onto the top step with a finalizing crunch. I stared at the three of them.

"Meg!" Terry's voice rose up from where he stood back on the sixth floor, looking up at us.

I had about three seconds to move out the way of the jinx Crabbe sent my way.

"No!" Malfoy exclaimed, shoving Crabbe sideways as the spell shot by the side of my head; white hot and making my ears crack.

My knees jarred as I fell to the bottom step, far too close to plummeting down to the first floor for my liking. I staggered upwards in time to see Crabbe and Goyle dashing off through the corridors. Malfoy stood there still, breathing heavily,

"Come on Draco!"

"Where are you going?" I asked, leaning on the banister, dragging myself fully upright, "What are you doing?"

"Meg-"

"No," I said sharply, not in the mood for a 'you don't understand' speech, "What are you doing, Draco?"

"It's not...I mean, it's not like last time-"

"Oh what does that even mean?" I snapped angrily, "You're not going to kill someone this time you mean? Well wow, that's just _wonderful_. Now I feel dead secure."

He stared at me a moment, taking in my furious expression. Then I saw, for a fleeting second the smile that grazed his lips, as if what I had said for some reason had made him happy.

"You want me to fight?" He finally asked, his voice quiet, his face solemn once more.

"Yes." I breathed, "I really do."

Neither of us had to mention which side I wanted him to fight for.

"Draco!"

The shout pierced the air, and despite myself I flinched. Crabbe was back, and I was pretty sure I had a few seconds before I became spell practice again. The look on Malfoy's face changed; he had been on the threshold of decision, and now his shoulders slumped. My heart slumped with them.

"Are you coming?" Crabbe's tone was harsh, unfriendly, and I wanted to scream at Malfoy, come on, how can he be siding with this? But he wasn't looking at me anymore; his eyes downcast and vacant, as if he physically didn't have any choice.

His lips moved and I quickly looked away. I couldn't hear him apologising again. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

A hand closed round my shoulder and pulled me upwards, just as the walls of the castle began to shake.

"Meg," Terry's voice rang in my ears, and an explosion shattered the ceiling over head, dust trickling down. Far away, I distantly heard screaming. "Meg, we need to go,"

"No," I said sharply, "No, Malfoy-"

"You can't-"

I pushed away from him, stumbling up the stairs onto the seventh floor. Malfoy had gone, I didn't know how I'd let that time slip by, but I knew where he was going, not that I knew how.

Terry was calling my name, but my focus was returning, a strong and determined clarity as I began to sprint down the corridors, hurtling past the portraits and staggering to a halt before a tapestry of ballet dancing trolls.

My hands on my knees, my brain racing, I straightened up just as the ceilings began to shake again.

"What are you _doing_?" Terry had caught up, breathless and now looking a little angry, "Do you know how stupid this is? We need to get back to the others-"

"Terry, shut up, this is important."

"Oh really?" He seemed a little hysterical, I noted, "So it takes first place next to, I don't know, all the dark forces in the world trying to penetrate our castle?"

Coincidence decided to back up his point as the window nearest us exploded in a shower of iron windowpane and glass. We both ducked, our arms flying up to protect ourselves as shards of glass sprayed across us like confetti. Terry swore loudly.

"Look, we have to get in the room!" I shouted over the sudden chain of explosions swarming the castle, the ground vibrating worse than ever, "I just know it's important!"

"Meg, it's no use! We have no idea why they're in there! There could be any reason!"

"No! I know why, I've got to remember," I screwed my face up, my palms knocking against my forehead, thinking. "I know, I do," I looked up in time to see a flash of light rising towards us, "_Protego_!" The spell shot into the barrier I had made with my wand, crashing into it and rebounding away; its bright light dazzling me momentarily.

Suddenly, there was a grating noise, and an abrupt silence.

"What the-" I began. But then I was interrupted. A huge crash resounded through the walls; shaking the floor, walls, and making my head pound.

"I don't think our defences are holding out." Terry said quietly, his eyes darting between the wall of the Room of Requirement and me.

He could say that again.

A swarm of black smoke suddenly engulfed the nearest window; and a man apparated out of nowhere; his face obscured by a heavy mask. And judging from the black cloak, and the fact he was raising his wand, I very much doubted he was on our side.

"_Stupefy!_" Terry yelled, not missing a beat. The figure slammed backwards into the wall, crumpling slightly, but a second later was on his feet. A spell shot past me, missing me by centimetres.

"Run, Meg!" Terry shouted, beginning to back away.

"No-"

My eyes had gone to the wall just waiting for the wish I had to give it, not that I knew what that was, but I didn't get much else in the way of protesting as Terry seized my arm, and we sprinted away; just as the wall above us shattered; dust spraying down on us.

The Death Eater behind us was shouting, not that I could make out what, and we dashed down the corridor, tearing down the stairs.

We literally ran into Antony as we hit the sixth floor,

"Antony!"

"Where the hell did you two go?" He bellowed, seemingly angrier with us that at situation that was causing the castle to shake, "The Death Eaters are getting in! We need to go towards the doors!"

He turned and ran, Terry and I racing after him as he tore down the staircases; the noise and crashing rising in crescendo. Listening to it, hearing the noises reverberate, pounding in my ears, I began to feel truly scared.

We emerged into the top of the Entrance Hall in time to find ourselves in the midst of a full scale battle. It was complete chaos.

The ceiling was shaking more than ever; but on the ground it was even worse. Death Eaters, masked dark shadows, were pouring in through the entrance to the castle; standing out vividly between the falling dust and smoke from missed spells. Green, red and purple flashed everywhere, figures screaming and yelling in pain or anger.

My two friends, those two I had known since the first year in this school began to run down the staircases, towards the smoke and flashing spells. I don't think my hands were shaking from adrenaline.

The spell that hit me sent me shooting against the wall; my head crashing against the stone as I slid down in a crumpled heap to the floor. Dazed, my vision swum before me, tears springing to my eyes, as I tried to remember that although right now it felt the opposite, my head was probably still attached to my neck.

A figure loomed over me; a hulking figure that I decided I definitely didn't want anywhere near me.

"I remember _you_," A voice growled, one I recognised instantly, and it took every ounce of courage I had to avoid whimpering. Fenrir Greyback took an aggressive step closer to me, his teeth glinting as he leered, "I don't forget a scent easily."

"Well, you certainly slipped my mind," I replied in the firmest voice I could muster, staggering to my feet, ignoring my limbs screaming in protest. My head was still throbbing. "But judging by your hair, you aren't one of my neighbours?"

Greyback's lips drew back in a smile. Or a snarl. He raised his wand.

"Get away from her you wolfy bastard!"

The spell that hit Greyback was so powerful it shot him over the banisters; hurtling out of sight as he plummeted downwards. I gazed after him in shock, finally coming aware of how tightly my fingers had been digging into my palms. The ground was cold on my knees, and I couldn't remember having fallen down again.

Someone sunk down next to me, hands gentle as they took mine. The acrid smell of ash and smoke filled my nose.

"Come on, get up Forester."

That voice.

I looked up and met Malfoy's eyes, finding the time to be startled at his appearance as I did so. He was covered in soot, his hair looking singed; his robes burnt. The strong smell of cinder was coming from him. Looking at him, taking in his expression that seemed scared and physically terrified I realised just how much he didn't want to be here right now. Perhaps, if I tried, I understood why he had done everything he had.

But that didn't quite excuse the pain he had caused me.

So, in the middle of a battle, with people duelling all around us, I hit him.

"Meg," He groaned, his hand coming up to his nose, "You have to _stop_ doing that."

"Yeah?" I exclaimed, recovering enough to be beside myself, "And you have to stop playing the I'm-so-misunderstood-but-please-forgive-me-cos-I-have-sad-eyes card! Wow, Malfoy, sometimes you are the biggest idiot I have ever met, and I'm me! Why don't you just take a few seconds to-"

He leant forwards and kissed me, so briefly that when he pulled away my lips hadn't had time to register what had happened. But it felt like I had just had a shot of Firewhiskey, my blood seeming to glow warm and my head becoming clear as I got to my feet, dragging him with me,

I got up just in time to send a hex towards a Death Eater heading our way. He stumbled backwards, and the curse Malfoy shot at him caused him to crumple back down the stairs.

"C'mon!" I said, grabbing his arm and beginning to head towards the staircases. Out of nowhere a hand grabbed me; jerking my head painfully backwards. I took a brief moment to contemplate how utterly useless I was being today.

"Stop!"

Malfoy had his wand drawn on the figure that was holding me, his hand moving frantically as he tried to find a safe place to aim which would result in me not being hit.

"Give me a reason, _boy_." The Death Eater snorted, his grip on me growing more painful.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, I'm Draco, I'm on your side!" Malfoy shouted, seeming to seize the first words that he could that might get me out of the mess I had thrown myself in. My bad.

Out of nowhere, a stunning spell shot into the Death Eater that was holding me, and he crumpled forwards, leaving me two seconds to dart out the way before he crushed me. I looked up in time to see some invisible force punch Malfoy in the face. He fell backwards; staggering, his mouth bleeding.

"That's the second time we've saved your life, you two-faced bastard!" An invisible voice yelled.

We were left breathing heavily, completely bemused.

"Well, that went well." I finally said happily, getting to my feet and dusting off my robes. "How about we go and help the others?"

"Yeah." Malfoy's voice was husky as he got to his feet, and before he could say anything else a massive crash shook the walls again. The doors to the castle banged open, and I froze in horror as hundreds of massive spiders began to scuttle into the Entrance Hall; their long legs twitching and pincers flashing in the random, flashing spell light.

"Urm," I said slowly, feeling sick at the sight of those longs, hairy legs, "Run!"

Malfoy grabbed my hand as we began to hurtle between the groups of fighting people.

It was complete pandemonium. Everywhere there were people; ducking and weaving, so it was physically exhausting to move just a few metres. People were carrying injured people out the way; Death Eaters duelling with teachers and other wizards I didn't recognise. Randomly, I shot a few spells at passing Death Eaters, running so fast they didn't have time to retaliate. Neville hurtled past me, his arms full of Venomous Tentacula plants. I hurried out of his way; my hand slipping out of Malfoy's. But I was sure he was still there.

I was just dodging a Death Eater that had crumpled to the floor; small tubers all over his face from the Snargaluff pod that had been thrown at him (having been there myself, I could sympathize) when a stone gargoyle cut across my path, making a 'wheeeeeee' noise.

"C'mon Greg!" It called to a gargoyle a few metres behind, "Let's destroy nasty people!"

"_All_ _nasty peoples should be thrown from church steeples!_" The statue named Greg said. I looked after them, totally bewildered, and then realised I knew the first gargoyle from one evening in winter; the boar who couldn't move. Well, talk about overcoming adversity.

"_Crucio_!"

I ducked the spell, and rounded on the short, dumpy witch who had fired it. Last I had assumed, Alecto had been out the fighting, but there was no mistaking that figure, or the wheezy giggle that rang out a few seconds later.

"You're going to get it!" She sang, firing another curse at me. I dived out the way, my eyes searching for Malfoy. My heart lurched when I realised he was gone.

"_Stupefy_!" I screamed, brandishing my wand wildly at Alecto as I staggered sideways from another rush of curses, my brain panicking, unable to think clearly. I had to do something, I thought dully, but I couldn't think what. I lurched away from another multitude of curses.

"_Stupefy_!" I tried again, and she danced out the way, giggling,

"Try again, pretty!" She sang, "But soon! Before I kill you!"

"_Expelliarmus! Stupefy! _Stop moving!_" _

This time her spell hit me. I sank to the floor with a scream, my wand clattering out my hand. I sprung upwards, my vision blurring, ignoring the pain in my muscles,

"Hey!" I shouted, losing my head completely and lobbing the first thing I had in my pocket at the Death Eater. It so happened that was Sampson.

I'll never know how the owl had managed to get into my robes, and given the amount of stuff I kept in there I hadn't noticed the extra weight. But he hurtled at Alecto, screeching, and for a moment she looked quite shocked. Until she realised it was a fluffy owl that was attacking her. She began to laugh.

That was, until Sampson sank his tiny claws into her face.

"Get off me!" She screeched, raising her wand,

"_Pertrificus Totatlus!_" I didn't know why, probably because Alecto had been trying to attack my favourite owl in the whole world, but the spell I sent at her was so strong that when it hit her, it blasted her off her feet. She collided with the wall metres away, with a sickening crack; blood dripping out the side of her mouth as she stirred feebly. I stood there, panting, my wand raised without a target anymore.

"That's for this whole year, you nasty piece of work." I growled. Sampson gave a supportive squawk. I didn't know what this feeling was, but I got the sneaking suspicion it was called closure.

There was a space of five seconds, where I looked around me, torn between finding someone else to fight, and looking for Malfoy, Terry and Antony.

Then, a cold voice stirred the air, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle, as if the speaker was right behind me. I spun round, to face empty air.

"_You have fought valiantly." _The voice whispered, cold and harsh. Silence swept over the battle; muting any sound. Wands came to rest by sides, people string around them, panting, legs tensed as if ready to run,_ "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured." _I froze at that, trying not to think of what those might be_, "I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."_

Complete silence fell. Goosebumps had erupted over my skin, and before anyone could move, the Death Eaters vanished; folding into black smoke and disappearing.

A hand closed around my arm, someone breathing a sigh of relief,

"Antony?" I asked blankly, looking across at him,

"We're going to the hall, Meg." He said, "They're bringing everyone there. It's over, for now."


	29. Chapter 29

**In which the battle resumes, and I see Hinkypunks and the sun.**

In years to come, if there were years to come, I knew I would look back to this night and wonder how I'd noticed so many things my normally unobservant, slow mind couldn't take in, not in such a short time.

Things flashed out at me as I walked to that hall, into the place where I had sat and eaten for seven years of my life. That hall had been where I'd laughed and eaten until I'd felt physically sick. There, I'd laughed as Peeves dropped eggs on people's heads at breakfast; I'd sat and looked at those twelve Christmas trees glittering, adorned with lights and tinsel; I'd felt peaceful and complete.

Now everything had shattered. Someone had hastily erected some small, flimsy looking camp beds; their occupants groaning, and with a plunge of fear, I saw some weren't moving at all. It was eerie how quiet the hall had gone; as if the hundreds of people crammed inside it weren't really here. Low murmurings filled the air, and my heart lurched as I heard sobbing. My hands shook as I crossed the hall; taking in people's tired, weary faces; the blood that matted hair, skin and clothes as it swam before me. I almost felt like I could smell it; iron amongst the faint smell of burning.

I knew why my hands were shaking. I'd never been more afraid in my life. Looking at those camp beds, seeing who was lying in them, and feeling my heart stutter every time I saw blond, dark, or sandy hair. It was selfish, looking for people I knew, but right then I realised what my greatest fear was; that in the third year when that Boggart had shown me a rampaging Hinkypunk I had been shockingly ignorant.

What could be worse? I decided, than seeing everyone you loved lying on these beds? With their eyes shut, and their skin pale? I was suddenly finding it hard to put one foot in front of the other.

Walking through that hall, I heard the sound of hurried feet on floorboards. The last thing I saw was a flash of white blond hair, before a pair of arms closed tightly around me, pulling me close against him.

"Malfoy," I whispered, my legs almost giving out in relief. One person alive.

"Last names still?" I could almost see him smirking weakly, "Ouch."

It felt inexplicably weird to stand there with him, and I felt bad for the feeling of relief, and bittersweet happiness that stole over me. How could I be happy when I could still hear that crying?

I drew away just as another figure hurtled into me, and that relief flooded through me again; tears stinging my eyes as I realised just how lost I would be without these people.

"Merlin's beard, Meg," The dark haired figure was stammering, "I turned around and you were gone, and how was I supposed to-"

"Terry," I grinned weakly, "I'm fine, really. Where's Antony?"

"With Padma. She broke her arm. And Jade's over there with some of her friends, so don't worry-"

He was cut off as a cry broke across the hall, a woman's sobbing causing the hush to grow even more muted.

"Oh my God." I breathed, my eyes following the sound.

The Weasleys' were crowded round one of beds, and my breath stuck in my throat as I looked at them.

Lying on one of those beds that I had decided I hated more than anything was Fred Weasley; my heart lurching and plummeting along with any happiness I could possibly have mustered. It couldn't be right, I decided, I was tired. How could this have all happened so fast? It couldn't have been more than two hours since I'd been sat in the Room of Requirement, bored and wondering. Now, people had died, snapped away so quickly it didn't seem real.

"Let's move away." Terry said in a muted voice, his jaw tightening as he looked over at the Weasley's, beginning to step away from them, because what else could you do when you were an intruder on a tragic scene like that?

I tripped and stumbled over scattered debris as I allowed him to lead me mindlessly across the hall, away from the stretch of beds that I couldn't take my eyes off. How many people lay there? How many families who would never see them again? I felt sick as I crossed that hall, that hall that couldn't be the same as the one I had known and loved. It was like I had slipped into some parallel world; a world filled with the dark things of nightmares. How could all these people be dead?

"-Meg,"

I realised Terry was saying my name, and I blinked, running a hand through my hair; my fingers pressing at the sudden headache pounding at my skull.

"Huh?"

"I said, McGonagall has gone to try and salvage some of the statues to fight for us. We might as well see if we can help."

I nodded, pressing my fingertips against my eyelids. I couldn't shake that image though. Fred's lifeless face.

"I'm guessing we're still fighting?"

That voice made me gasp in relief; spinning round and pouncing on the speaker, Antony; who had come up behind us; his face streaked with ash from what had probably been a near miss from a spell.

"Wow, I'm ok." He said, a faint glint of a weary smile on his lips, "Neville's just said a few of them are going out into the grounds. You know, for the people still out there..." He trailed off, but none of us needed any indication as to exactly what people he meant. More people for the camp beds.

"We're still fighting." Terry finally murmured after the uncertain flicker of grim silence. It wasn't really a question; the light in his dark eyes not anywhere near one of surrender. He looked angry, I realised. Not that it was any wonder. Not with that crying family behind us.

"Of course," I said quietly, my voice breaking slightly, "I don't trust anyone who speaks about themselves in third person through thin air."

"Um." Said Antony, and looking back at him, I saw his eyes were fixed on Malfoy. And not with a particularly friendly look. "What is _he _doing here?"

For some reason, my mind was hurled back to that broom cupboard; five of us crammed against crates of Mrs. Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover.

"That's right," Terry put in, looking more concerned than confrontational, "Last time we saw you, you were running off on some unfulfilled mission."

"I'm guessing it stayed unfulfilled?" I shot the question at Draco, who met my gaze. He looked pale; traces of soot and ash still marring his skin and hair.

"Yeah." He said in a hoarse voice.

"And where are your buddies?" I asked, casting a quick look round the hall, which was probably stupid. They weren't on this side. And Malfoy, well, with Malfoy I normally didn't have any idea as to which side he was on.

"Goyle...I don't know where he is." Malfoy's voice was wavering, and I flicked my gaze back to him curiously. "But Crabbe...Crabbe's dead."

I paused for a moment, wondering how exactly to feel about this,

"Well," I finally said, "It couldn't have happened to a _nicer_ person." And with that, whether it was shock catching up to me, or because I'd momentarily taken leave or my senses, I began to snort uncontrollably.

Malfoy's lips flickered; the cold look in his eyes faltering as he took in my expression.

"Someone has just died." Terry said weakly, taking in the pair of us.

It was terrible, I knew; it was just a little hard to regain control of myself. It felt like some heavy fist had just crushed down on me, and like a balloon, I felt like I was deflating. Balloons were probably a little more sophisticated about it though.

"Are you hysterical?" Terry asked blankly, evidently clueless as to what to do.

I put my face in my heads, a little startled to find my eyelashes were a bit wet. Yes, I suppose I was a little hysterical. Despite from my stomach feeling like jelly, I felt a little better though.

Neville pushed past us; his nose streaming freely with blood; his cardigan torn and his face bruised.

"Antony, Terry," He said, then started slightly as he recognised Draco. He evidently decided it was best to ignore him, for he carried on as if he wasn't there. Beside me, Malfoy stiffened, "Do you want to help go outside?"

"We have forty minutes," Terry said in the same quiet voice he had been using; glancing down at his watch, "And I guess we can't really do much here-"

"Meg, can I talk to you?"

Malfoy cut across the conversation, causing us all to look across at him.

"Now?" I asked stupidly. Malfoy walked away before he could give an answer, heading out into the hall; making his way through scattered debris; clouds of dust swirling up around him.

"Um." I muttered, awkwardly taking in Neville's, Terry's and Antony's somewhat baffled expressions, "Be right back."

The hall behind me felt like the sun as I walked away from it; pulling me back into its orbit even as I turned away. Despite my breaking down slightly, it was still there; the tragedy it housed still as present and blaring as ever. But I felt strangely empty right now, as if my body had held all the emotion it could, and now I was stumbling around in a dream; my eyes expressionless to what they were seeing.

Until Malfoy's grey eyes fixed on mine. He said only a few words, but the way he said them made me feel like I had just woken up; having fallen out of bed; now blind and confused.

"I'm sorry." His tone was measured, but it broke slightly as he looked directly at me, his jaw set determinedly, "I'm so sorry for everything."

I didn't say anything to that, because, really, I had absolutely nothing to say. Not because those words didn't merit any acknowledgement, but because my brain was thudding dully and blankly; in the kind of way it used to when a teacher had demanded an answer from me and I hadn't been paying attention. My eyes moved across the scene around us; around the broken castle with its empty portraits and shattered statues. This couldn't be the same place I had walked through on my first night here; eleven years old; nervous and so much smaller than I was now.

And I found out I did have things to say.

"Look, I get it. I do. These two years have been a nightmare for you." I sucked on my cheeks as I contemplated the expression on his face. It had turned to a blank masked again; only his eyes were watching me fixatedly. "And not because of that stupid mission, but because you had to choose between your family and what was right. Why should a seventeen year old have to choose that?" I kicked at the stone by my foot. It hurt. "It's just unfair, isn't it? This whole thing is so, _so_ unfair."

"I messed up." Malfoy's tone was harsh, brittle as he spoke across me, "Not just once either. I've let you down, so many times."

I had a retort for that, as I normally did, but something in his eyes made me falter.

"What?" I asked, confused. I didn't know what he was getting at, and suddenly, I felt a little scared.

"Look at everything I've put you though," He said, his forehead creasing as his lips flickered humourlessly, "I left you in that corridor last year; I couldn't even move, and, sure, I hated myself for it- I _hate_ myself for it- but that didn't change the fact I didn't do anything at Easter either. And tonight, of all nights, I left you on that staircase."

"So?" The word came out a little ruder than I had intended it to, but it was worth it for the look of surprise that crossed his face, "What are you getting at?"

"I really think," He let out a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say, "That in no world, or any time, will I ever deserve you."

Wow.

A thousand thoughts shot through my head at that. Thrilled, upset, angry, confused all flooded through my head; pumping like blood before my eyes.

I latched onto the nearest one.

"Now?" I asked weakly, "You want to do this _now_?"

"I can't just not say this-"

But I was already onto the next thought that had been flung through my pounding head,

"Ok, here's the deal, you useless lump of person." I said, my choice of words causing his eyebrows to shoot upwards in surprise, "You go on about how you beat yourself up for leaving me all those times, and your solution is to _leave_?"

"Well no, that's not what I-"

"Do I look remotely finished?" I believe the description for my tone now was something Terry would have described as hysterical. "Surely me, who has apparently been used and abandoned so many times, deserves some sort of say in this whole deal? Do you agree?"

"Um." Sheepish was definitely the word for Malfoy's expression, "Yes. But-"

"Well then, I say I'm your girlfriend. _Moron_."

"Meg," And with that I knew, with that small surrendered use of my name, I was finally getting to hear what was really hurting him; the thing that was stabbing into his chest and crippling him with guilt. He looked at me, and either I was hallucinating, or his eyes were swimming. He's crying, I realised dully.

"I caused this though." He said.

I had to say, that was not an angle I had fully considered him saying. Sure, when angry I'd blamed him a hundred times in my head for how things that had panned out this year, and sometimes I was pretty sure he had too. After all, to some extent, it was his fault. But this? He was blaming himself for Fred, for the countless others who lay scattered in the grounds and on those beds?

"You believe that?" I whispered, my voice hoarse, "That's what you think?"

He nodded.

That broke my heart; to see him standing there, so wracked with self-hate and guilt. I'd felt guilt too, for knowing what he was doing, what he'd done last year, and not telling anyone. It ate you up; it crushed you.

I'd stepped forwards and wrapped my arms around him before I could speak again.

"The only person whose fault this is," I said firmly, my face warm as I rested it against his chest, "Is someone who is barely even human. And Harry is going to kill him."

I could feel his heart beating, the strong rhythm of his chest oddly soothing to my tired, aching brain. His arms wound arm me in reply, warm and gentle. I wasn't sure if anything I had said had made a dent in that massive shield of remorse he had cased himself in, but hopefully I hadn't made it worse.

"My parents are out there, Meg," He said quietly, almost a whisper as his breath stirred my hair, "In the forest."

"Well," I replied softly, "It's time they chose between their son and what's safe."

I don't know how long we stood there, neither of us speaking, encased in our own thoughts and fears; my eyes stinging as my arms stayed tightly wrapped around him, as if he were a lifeline in this storm.

And then, that voice. Cold, making my skin erupt with shivers. And it was triumphant.

"_Harry Potter is dead."_

And just like that my heart seemed to freeze, somehow stuttering to a halt as I heard those four words; so certain I had misheard, but so desolately sure I hadn't.

"_He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and The Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."_

The silence left behind crushed down on my eardrums. The distant muttering that had been discernable from the hall was gone; any sound or movement eclipsed by what we had all just heard.

Then, just one voice,

"Outside, quickly,"

Footsteps came hurried on flagstones, and a moment later Professor McGonagall came running out of the hall, towards the doors to the grounds that had one stood so proud and now lay battered and ajar.

I broke away from Malfoy, glancing at him for a split second, meeting his eye before tearing myself away, and running after her.

I wasn't the only one. The flood of students and people who had fought for Harry came sprinting out the hall; surging as one towards the doors. It was as crowded and impossible to move freely as the evacuation had been, but not one face was smiling anymore. No laughing, smiling. Just pain, sadness and fear. And defeat.

My breathing sounded harsh as the cold, waning night air met it; sharp and bitter. Far above the trees to the Forbidden Forest the stars were moving on; the moon shifting through the sky; a faint line of dawn already blurring the horizon. I had lost track of time; stuck in this perpetual, nightmare limbo.

They came from the shadows of the trees; hooded, dark figures, so numerous it was a wonder we had all managed to withstand them at all. Giants, lumbering and huge railed after Death Eaters; all coming up the grounds towards our castle, and squinting through the faint light, I saw one taller figure in the centre of the group; moving in great, shuffling steps. I felt sick when I recognised Hagrid; his shoulders shaking as he moved.

And then I recognised the figure he was holding.

"NO!" Mcgonagall's cry split the air, harsh and making me jump. Laughter met her exclamation, from one of the Death Eaters, and beside me, a small girl began to cry. Completely unaware of doing so, I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Harry!" The voice made me flinch, people calling out Harry's name, his friends who had fought for him. The cries grew louder, but I couldn't bring myself to speak; not with my eyes focused on Harry's still face, lifeless and blank. It was almost like I was praying for his eyelashes to flutter, for his mouth to twitch, for him to give some sign of life.

"Silence!"

A voice called for quiet; a voice I had only ever heard magnified into the empty air. So, I thought, that's what he looked like. Lord Voldemort. Tall and pale; he looked more like some skeletal ghost than a man. Or perhaps he looked more like a snake; with his slitted nostrils and narrowed eyes. Either way, I found out what it felt like to be ridiculously afraid. I jumped as a flash of bright light shot over us; a wand exploding, casting quiet over the watchers.

"It is over!" Lord Voldemort continued; his voice rasping as he shouted, "Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

I was jostled aside as people tried to look at the figure Hagrid placed at the ground, trying to see if it really was all over. Blink, Harry, my mind thudded dully, please be alive.

"Harry Potter is dead. From this day forth, you put your faith in me. Harry Potter is dead!" His last words were drowned with a cry of triumph from the Death Eaters; the sharp, dead silence from the watching crowd clashing against it.

"And now," Voldemort continued, "Is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us, or die."

He was met with still, silent figures. Nobody moved, breathing around me shallow.

"Draco," The voice came wavering across the space between the two lines of people. Lucius Malfoy was looking at the figure standing next to me, his hand outstretched towards his son. "Draco."

Malfoy froze beside me as eyes turned to him. Unconsciously, I felt his gaze flicker towards me. I stared ahead, my brain raging.

"Draco, come." It wasn't his father this time, but Narcissa Malfoy.

And there, meeting her wide-eyed, panicked gaze, I knew he would go to her. Not for a second did I doubt it.

But it wasn't because he was choosing Voldemort. He was choosing his family. Or, moreover, looking into Narcissa's expression, his family was choosing him. My fingers found his hand, and I squeezed it. Go, I wanted to say, it's ok. At least one of us might be getting out of this alive. But how much could anyone say with one simple gesture?

He left my side, leaving me oddly cold, working his way through the crowd, out into the gap between the two sides. I dropped my gaze. Even though his reason fro going over there was not constructed of cowardice, I didn't want to see this.

When I looked back up, Voldemort was speaking again,

"-Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron's voice broke through the crowd; and the spell that had shot out over us seemed to lift; for shouts filled the air again. The light hit us again; silence snapping out the cries of protest,

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds! Killed while trying to save himself-"

He broke off as a tall figure broke from the crowd and raced towards Voldemort. Even the Carrows couldn't have mistaken him for someone eagerly joining the Death Eaters. A flash of light met his efforts and he flew backwards; colliding with the unforgiving ground.

Neville Longbottom staggered to his feet, now wandless and alone in the stretch of land between us and them.

"And who is this?" Voldemort hissed, "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

The woman who had laughed earlier stepped forwards, and the first thing I really noted about her was the state of her hair. Definitely not one of my neighbours either.

"It is Neville Longbottom my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

I felt, in between the fear and worry pounding though my brain, a sudden surge of pride that our actions had been deemed worthy of telling to the Death Eaters and Lord Volemort himself. Perhaps, after all that hopelessness, we had made a difference. Not that is mattered now.

"Ah, yes I remember." Voldemort was saying, his voice turning quieter, more like a snakes hiss as he looked down at Neville, "But you are a pure-blood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville retorted, his voice carrying easily over to where I stood. My gaze flickered over to where Malfoy now stood; his shoulders hunched, his arms stiff by his side. He was watching me, his gaze fixed on mine.

"You show spirit, and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need you kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over!" Neville shouted, turning to face the watching crowd at the steps to the castle, "Dumbledore's Army!" He was met with an answering cheer, that made me feel a small flicker of hope. These people were all still ready to fight, I realised. Then hell, so was I.

"Very well," Voldemort said, the snake's hiss more dangerous than ever, "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it."

A window above us shattered; and something plummeted from the sky; dropping into Voldemort's outstretched fingers. I recognised it instantly, with a twinge of confusion. It was the Sorting Hat.

Voldemort was speaking again, but his voice was so quiet I couldn't make out the words. All I saw was Neville looking at him, his hands clenched furiously by his side, and Harry still lying there; crumpled on the floor. Suddenly, Voldemort forced the hat over Neville's head. A few watching people shuffled, bewildered but tensed. They were met with the wands that raised in unison from across the no-man's-land.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," Voldemort announced, and with that, he flicked his wand. And the hat burst into flames.

The growing, pale light meant that he looked like a beacon; the flames licking at Neville like he was tied to a pyre; unable to move as his body set alight.

I had moved long before I lost track of everything.

My wand was drawn, my feet racing down the steps, in between the surging crowds, when the massive shout split the air, a thousand times louder than a normal pair of lungs could have managed,

"HAGGER!"

The giant rounded the side of the castle spanning out towards the Quidditch Pitch; great footsteps causing the ground to shake. The cry was met with a dozen more, as the giants that had trailed behind the Death Eaters began to move; hurtling towards the smaller giant; their footsteps pounding the earth, almost causing my feet to lift upwards at the vibrations. The quaking earth hummed with the sound of moving feet; and hooves thundered over the earth; the sound of bows strumming as arrows shot through the air. Having no idea which direction they were headed in, I fell to my knees; my skin grazing.

"Harry!" The cry split the air, "HARRY- Where's Harry?"

I couldn't even look at the speaker, or where Harry had stood; staying low as feathers now beat at the air; the flash of steely talons glinting menacingly in the gathering dawn.

"Get inside!" A hoarse voice shouted.

I couldn't have agreed more. I barely had time to glance at what was causing the earth to pound, thrum and quake; or the air to whistle with the sound of impact. My arms up around my head, I sprinted back into the Entrance Hall; stumbling and colliding with the surge of bodies.

I ran, heedless of where I was going, and coming to my senses long enough to fire a spell at the nearest Death Eater.

A flash of red blurred before me; and I realised dully that I was unlikely to dodge the spell that hurtled towards me. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

But then nothing. I darted forwards again, my gaze just catching the dissolving, blurred lines of what had been a Shield Charm. And not one that I had cast either.

But that mystery was swallowed forever as I was jostled towards the Great Hall; stampeding hooves and hoarse shouts and flashing spells totally disorientating me.

"Where is he?"

The shout I ignored, until hands clasped around my arms, spinning me round to face the almost senseless look on Narcissa Malfoy's face,

"What?" I shouted, as the wall up above me exploded; showering dust over the pair of us,

"Where is my son?" I looked into her panic-stricken eyes, at the shadows that laced the skin underneath them, and I realised that she never had chosen anything else over the safety of her son.

"I-" I didn't know, and the spell that collided with the wall next to us caused her to release her grip on me. A Death Eater lumbered across my path, and by the time I had ducked his spell and sent a Stunning Spell randomly in his direction, Narcissa Malfoy had been swallowed up into the surging mess sprawling before me. The Great Hall was pounding with movement; glass shattering and walls exploding as people shouted and screamed hoarsely.

I stumbled into the Hall, hovering at the entrance as I gasped for air, just as with a force like a gunshot, the woman with the mad hair, who had laughed like someone possessed, literally exploded.

"_Protego!"_

The shout came from none of the people that I could see; as an invisible shield sprung over the watching crowd.

And then, a figure stepped forwards, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Someone with a shock of black hair, that if it was pushed back from his head, would reveal a lightning-shaped scar.

"HE'S ALIVE!"

The silence that had been smothering the crowd outside descended once more; I felt myself back sharply away, feeling too close to Harry and Voldemort; who had begun to circle one another.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry said, his voice clear and collected. And so very much alive. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort was about to reply, his narrowed eyes watching Harry's as they both stepped around the circle they had created, wands poised for the moment when they would be raised. My heart was thudding in my chest; my palms slippery; my heart beating so loud I didn't see the Death Eater behind me.

A hand closed around my throat and pulled me backwards, the small scuffle we created going virtually unnoticed in the almost silent room. Out in the Entrance Hall; flickers of movement were still there; the centaur's hooves striking the ground as they moved towards the hall; a few figures still duelling.

My legs thrashed wildly as I tried to free myself from the strong grip, my fingers scrabbling at the hand around my throat as my legs kicked and struggled. But it was no use. They were too strong.

The ground hit me with such force small stars erupted before my eyes; stinging my mind as I scrabbled upwards, swaying dangerously.

My attacker was unfamiliar to me, just a random Death Eater; a random person who had decided to kill a random student.

I allowed myself to be mildly annoyed that I was about to be killed by a complete stranger.

I stumbled backwards, reaching for my wand.

"_Expelliarmus_."

_I'm useless_, I thought angrily, _a baby could do better than I'm doing right now_. In fact, a baby already had. I spun round to face the hall; to face Harry, the Boy Who Lived. He was still circling with Voldemort as the school watched on, unaware of the people that were out here; unaware I was probably about to die. My voice was caught in my throat and I couldn't shout, but my gaze fixed on someone on the other side of the hall; someone whose eyes would be a calm grey if I could just make them out. Malfoy seemed to sense my gaze, and looked across at me; over the heads of the people there; across all that space, all the rubble of the school I had once loved and the hurting, desperate students it held. I saw his lips form a single word.

_Meg_.

That's nice, my mind said quietly, sensing the Death Eater moving behind me, that's a nice last thing to think about.

It all happened rather quickly. There was a scuffle, and a loud bang. And I didn't really take much notice of what came after that.

* * *

><p>With a rushing glimpse of sight, I became fully convinced I was in my Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in the third year. After all, that bright light could only be from the lantern of a Hinkypunk, and you weren't supposed to follow them. I moved my fingers, to take notes perhaps, and realised that hurt.<p>

"Ow."

"Meg?"

"I'm paying attention," I moaned to the shadowy figure next to the bright light blurred and reeled out of focus, "I promise."

"Meg!"

"Ok, I'm sorry, I won't throw rude sketches at Malfoy again,"

"That was _you_?"

"I think she's concussed."

"_You're_ concussed." I muttered back, wondering why my teacher was being so rude.

"Meg! Open your eyes!"

I had thought my eyes were open; but now, my eyelids felt so heavy perhaps I had just been peering through half closed lids; my lashes blurring my vision. Why did I always have to fall asleep in classes?

But that bright light wasn't looking as bright as it had before, and it wasn't the right shape for a lantern. My fingers reached up for it, and I found it was soft. It was hair.

"Oh," I told Draco Malfoy, "I thought you were a Hinkypunk."

"Is she ok?"

"Let's take her into the Hall, Madame Pomfrey is there looking at everyone."

"Harry and Voldemort are in there," I muttered, wincing as hands pulled me upwards, the weight of the ground digging into me vanishing, "We can't go in."

Nobody answered me, which I thought was rather rude. I lost track of the proceedings, but by the time something soft was laid under me, my eyes were focused once more; allowing me time to appreciate that the side of my head was throbbing.

"Ow." I said again.

"You're ok, Meg," Malfoy's voice, soft and hoarse, perhaps from shouting, "Just stay still,"

"What's going on? What happened?"

"Well," Malfoy was in my line of sight again, leaning over me; his hair glinting as sunlight streamed in through the broken window of the hall, "I didn't really see, I mean, I saw you, but your attacker must've have missed, or been taken down before he could hex you. Either way, when I got to you, you were both unconscious-"

"No, I mean what happened here? Where's Harry?"

I half expected Malfoy's eyes to darken, for him to glance uncomfortably around before telling me that Harry _wasn't_ around. But he didn't.

"Over there."

I didn't even follow his gesturing hand, but lay staring at Malfoy, the implications of what he said thundering through my mind.

"So...so, Voldemort-?"

Peeves was floating around overhead, and of the song he was singing, I caught the lyrics '_Voldy's gone mouldy.' _

Malfoy met my eye and gave a shrug, as if the poltergeist had said all that needed to be said.

"Meg!"

Antony's voice broke across us, loud and making my ears throb; my mind was still on confused overdrive.

"Where's Terry?" I said instantly, shifting as I looked around, "And Jade? And Padma? Where are they? What happened?"

"Voldemort exploded, Meg!" Antony said, his face hovering over mine alight with happiness. "Literally! It was the coolest thing ever! Harry is a hero!"

"Where's-" I tried again, but was interrupted by a figure hurtling into me,

"You stupid sister!" Jade screeched, causing half the hall to fall silent, "You are literally the most stupid human on this planet!"

"Nice to see you too," I muttered, working hard to fight my grin.

"Voldemort exploded, and I turned round," Jade was babbling, "And then I saw him-" She jabbed Malfoy in the chest, who looked momentarily like his third year self. Completely affronted. "And he was running over to the idiot that is _you-_"

"Wait," I said with sudden ferocity, shifting my weight so I was more upright. My head protested valiantly, "You are kidding? The most evil wizard of the whole freaking world just exploded, and I was _unconscious_?"

"Told you she'd be mad." Said a familiar voice.

The new sight of Terry, emerging next to Antony, Malfoy and Jade made every ounce of dread my heart had unconsciously been saving up over the past few hours to burst forth. My eyes were threatening to start stinging as I looked at them all.

"Urm, Meg?" Antony said, his voice sounding baffled, "Are you crying?"

Fortunately for me, Madame Pomfrey came over not long after that. She announced to everyone that I did indeed have concussion, to which I gave a very sarcastic 'oh my goodness really? So I wasn't just in Defence Against the Dark Arts?' which made her remember me, and to which I'm sure amounted to her giving me a very brief look-over, and a glass of something that tasted like liquidized rat brains.

I staggered determinedly out of the camp bed after she bustled away, muttering to herself, my head still reeling but my stubbornness to enter into this confusing scene winning out. I felt like I might as well have been unconscious for a hundred years, the things that had happened whilst I had been lying on the Entrance Hall floor.

I lurched towards the large window that spanned out over the end of the hall, that now lay broken and shattered; the small walled ledge that ran outside the hall open for feet to tread on.

And suddenly I didn't want to know what had happened anymore. Not yet, anyway. I wanted to see the sun, to feel the morning air that I never thought I would feel again; and to wonder what came next. Because what on earth _could_ come next?

The stone wall was cold under my palms as I slid out onto the ledge, shattered glass crunching under my feet as I moved round, out of sight from the crowd in the hall; the chattering, shouting and laughing muting as I turned the corner; new sounds meeting my ears. The calls of the birds away in the trees of the Forbidden Forest; leaves rustling in the cool wind; the soft lapping of the lake on the shore far below me.

The sigh I let out felt like one I had been holding for ages; for a year; one that had been pent up with suffering, fear and worry. And what happened now? It was gone, lifted from my chest; like some huge pressure that had been crushing me now vanished. I felt light, and free, muscles that had been tensed relaxing, and a smile blossoming over my face.

"Do you need filling in?"

Malfoy's voice made me smile further, and I gave him a small glance as he came to stand next to me, his hands resting a few centimetres from mine.

"Not yet," I answered quietly, "I quite like being here at the moment."

I hadn't meant it literally, not where I was standing, but I think Malfoy understood. He stood silently next to me, as I looked out over the grounds, across at Hagrid's Hut where I had once tried burying my sister's Pygmy Puff, out towards the Forbidden Forest where I had had that detention, and where we had had numerously disastrous Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Just visible were the tall stands of the Quidditch Pitch, now burned and blackened, but where I had broken my arm, and secretly had the time of my life. There lay the greenhouses, just out of sight, the glass roof of one glinting orange in the dawning light. There was the path where I had made that Patronus, thinking of the very person who now stood next to me; just in front of the hall where so many happy memories had been born. Christmas, feasts and the Yule Ball. I would keep them separate, I decided. Keep them separate from tonight.

Over in the east, beyond the mountains, the sun had risen; slowly climbing tentatively into the sky to greet the new day. It was beautiful, I realised. This whole place was.

"I know we have a lot to work through, Forester." Malfoy said quietly, his gaze following mine as we watched the sun. "And I know I've made bad choices. That's what Dumbledore said to me once, you know." His voice had grown so quiet I could barely hear him, "I made all the wrong choices."

"Well, Draco," I said with a small smile, glancing back at him, blinking against the sun that had been seared against my eyes. "You had better start making the right ones then."

He stood frozen for a few seconds, the look in his eyes almost hesitant. Then his lips flickered, the sunlight making him almost a blur as he stepped closer to me, his fingers gently wound in my hair as he pulled me towards him.

And I would have definitely classed his kissing me as the right choice.

Sure, I thought, as his lips pressed against mine, a short kiss that was warm and comforting, flooding through me warmer than any flame, perhaps it wasn't perfect. Here we stood, in the aftermath of a battlefield; shattered glass at our feet and broken walls at our side. But out there over the snowless mountains the sun was climbing, and turning things into warm orange beauty. And if the sun could make something like this shattered castle a whole, beautiful thing once again, then really, where Malfoy and I were concerned, there was very little in our shattered lives that couldn't be made entire once more.

Because at the end of the day, he was here with me; his skin beneath my fingers as I traced the curve of his face. After everything, all that we had been through we had made it out the other side. Side by side.

And, I realised, if that wasn't perfect, I didn't know what was.

**TA DAAAAH!**

**Sidenote: I'm going to write a teeny weeny little epilogue type thing, just to round this all up. You'll all probably find it dead cheesy(ier) so you can all avoid it like the plague if you like...but I'm gonna upload it anyway so mooohaahaaa. But first I must write it :B **


	30. Chapter 30

**The end.**

Thin wisps of summer were still clinging to London that day. The sun was already climbing high in the sky; not nearly as warm as it had been a few mere weeks ago as it softened the early morning figures picking their way across the streets to King's Cross station. The air smelt of car exhausts and frying food from the nearest cafes, and resounded with the droning and rumbling of traffic. The boring, average sounds and smells of a waking city.

Except for the hurried footsteps and rattling trolley that were thundering across to the station's entrance,

"How are we always late to everywhere we go?" The blond haired boy protested as he shoved past the milling crowds that parted to let him through; throwing glances and double takes at the trolley he was pushing before him, which contained a very white, and very angry looking ferret.

"Because," I told my son, not able to hide the smile on my face as I looked down at him, "It's a curse that has been passed down for generations through my family."

"Or," My husband smirked, opening the door so I could pass through, "Your mother doesn't understand the words 'we have to leave now or we'll be late.'"

"Another terrible curse." I told Draco.

He looked amused, as if he had expected that comment. Which, after nineteen years of knowing me, was probably the case.

Our son didn't look the least bit satisfied with the reply he had received, and if it hadn't been his first time walking through the barrier, I wouldn't have been surprised if he had run off ahead. Uncool parents and all that. He had always been determinedly independent and stubborn anyway. Much like other people I knew.

I'd already given him the run down on the barrier; so when we reached it, he only paused a moment; that look on his face frighteningly similar to his father's as his jaw jutted out; his brows lowering as he looked at the intimidatingly solid-looking brick wall. And then he vanished.

The barrier sent a pang of longing through me as I looked fondly up at the sign proclaiming this stretch of station to be platform 9. It all felt the same; the calls and shouts as trains closed their doors, the heavy sounds of luggage and footsteps. But it wasn't me who had to be on that train at eleven o'clock, not me who had an owl screeching or a trolley threatening to veer off in the wrong direction.

Malfoy turned to smile at me. Even after all these years, those grey eyes still had the capacity to make my heart skip a beat.

"After you?"

Bittersweet happiness shot through me as the Muggle platform blurred and evaporated; my nostrils now filling with the heavy scent of smoke that blurred my vision; saturating out the moving forms of children and parents; but not quite enabling me to miss the scarlet train that stood as glossy and as bright as ever. My old vehicle to perfection.

"Hooray!" I told Scorpius, who was standing not far off the barrier, his fists very white as they clenched the handle of the trolley, "You and the ferret are intact. How about you go and put your things on the train?"

"You don't need to come with me." He said determinedly, and the ferret shrieked in apparent agreement. It hadn't liked me much after I had introduced it to Sampson. Despite being at least a quarter the ferret's size; the elderly owl had been stubbornly convinced it had been food.

"I still can't believe you bought him a _ferret_." Malfoy muttered as Scorpius set off doggedly into the crowd, the small white face of his pet still glaring back at me,

"Unfortunately he wouldn't name it Draco." I sighed ruefully,

"Is our son simply a pawn in your game to constantly mock me?"

"You are the one that named our son _Scorpius_."

"It's a traditional family name." Malfoy replied, trying not to smirk, "And there was no way we were going with your suggestion of 'Knarkley."

"I thought it was original. How great would Knarkley Malfoy have sounded?"

Draco didn't seem to think I was banking on a reply, and even if he wasn't ignoring me, his attention was claimed by something he had spotted through the train smoke.

"What? I...oh." I followed his gaze and saw Harry Potter standing with Ginny; a young boy by their side with tousled black hair; the very essence of his father.

"Oh _really_." I sighed, giving them a wave, "I thought we were all friends again."

"Define _friends_, Forester."

I made a noise like a buzzer on those Muggle TV shows, causing a few parents to look questioningly over at me. I imagine I had just lessened my chances of being invited to the Hogwart's parents' tea club.

"Wrong." I told him, "I can't believe you're still doing that. Care to try again?"

"I can't call you 'Malfoy'," He smirked, "It sounds like I'm talking to myself."

"And provides endless amusement for me."

We were interrupted by Scorpius appearing at our side once more, sans ferret and trolley; his pale face flushed from running.

"What have you been doing?" I asked suspiciously, not quite trusting the look in his eyes to have been born from moral activities. We were his parents, after all.

"I saw Rose Weasley," He announced, looking proud of himself, "And I told her that her robes were cheap."

"So are yours." I commented, before Draco stepped in.

"You should go and apologize."

"I don't want to!"

"Do you want to get presents for Christmas?" I asked, and his face fell. "That's what I thought. Go and tell Rose your robes are your father's. That will cheer Ron up."

I waited until Scorpius had disappeared into the crowd before turning back to Draco,

"He's just like you were," I muttered,

"Which I'm assuming is a bad thing?"

"Unless he meets a girl who won't take any of his nonsense, yes." I smirked. "Where's Terry and Antony anyway? They said last week they'd meet us right? It's been at least twenty four hours since Terry's daughter hasn't done something worth adding to a Chocolate Frog Card."

"You're acting surprised his child is a genius." Malfoy put in dryly, just before I caught a flash of dark hair through the smoke from the train,

"Oi, Terry!"

When he heard me his dark eyes creased in a smile; and he lightly touched the arm of his wife; muttering something in her ear before they began to head over to us,

"Charlotte is already on the train," He told us when he came within earshot; so much taller than when we had last stood here together. His face was still the same though; amused dark eyes that flitted between Draco and me and the woman by his side.

"Something to do with prefects," Eleanor Boot finished for her husband, catching my eye and hiding a smirk. Terry had been telling us, with no degree of shame of when to stop, of his daughter being made a prefect for the majority of the summer.

"Hah, that's embarrassing Terry," I sniggered, pretty sure I had already used this joke already, "Your daughter succeeded where you didn't."

"I'm pretty sure it's accredited to that fact that she doesn't hang round with the people who get everyone into trouble." Terry shot back with a grin, "Just how disappointed will you be if Scorpius doesn't break any rules?"

"I'll disown him."

"_Honey_, our son is not exactly out of earshot."

Hoping at least by now my son could understand my sense of humour, I turned to meet him as he arrived back once more; this time dragging an older boy with sandy hair; whose grin I recognised instantly, having seen the exact replica on his father's face less than a week ago.

"Jack just said the gargoyles don't shout insults at you!" Scorpius told me furiously, the boy behind him looking sorry he'd ever said anything, "You said they did!"

"Well," I said in a patient tone, "They obviously prefer Goldsteins."

"Have you seen the broom dad got me, Meg?" Antony's son grinned, "It's the new Nimbus, and-"

"Wow, wait, your father got you a broomstick?" Scorpius gasped, before turning to Draco, "Why can't I take one too?"

"Because you're a 'ickle first year." I told him, "Apparently you're too delicate for that kind of thing."

Scorpius was cut off from a response by the arrival of the aforementioned generous broomstick-buying parent.

"Wow, do you ever think we see too much of each other?" Antony smirked, as his son playfully shouldered him, "We really need to start talking to other people."

"But they all look at me weird when I make that Muggle buzzer noise." I moaned, "And what's this about the amazing Nimbus thingy?"

"'Thingy.'" Jack repeated with apparent pain.

"I told you I'd get him a broom! He's trying out for the Quidditch team now he's in the second year. Mind you, Padma wasn't too pleased, she has this idea that flying it will cause some issues with attitude or something-"

"Why are you letting him play Quidditch?" I asked in disbelief, "That sport is savage."

"Yeah, dad told me about you smashing your arm in once." Jack grinned, which kind of destroyed the dignified side of my argument.

"This is weird, isn't it?" Terry said, "Being here again. I feel like we should be getting on that train."

He was cut short by the sudden harsh whistle that cut through the air; the sound of the train calling students to it. I didn't know whether it was Terry's words or that familiar, long lost sound, but my heart stuttered slightly.

"Right," Draco said, as Scorpius paled slightly, "We'll send you an owl tomorrow if you like, or-"

"No, it's ok, I'll be fine. I'll send you one sometime."

"Sometime?" I grinned, "You realise I'll be on the edge of my seat waiting to hear every tiny detail? From now on, I'm living though you."

"You're such an embarrassing parent." Scorpius muttered.

"I've heard it's in the job description. Do you have everything? Robes, wand, lifetime supply of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

"Everything except the Magical Moustache Miracle Stubble Grow you took off me."

"You'll thank me later. Right, no accepting food off red haired twins, don't ask Slytherins for directions, or anything for that matter. Don't laugh at ghosts when they tell you about being exorcised, don't skip classes, or fall asleep in classes, don't bury any Pygmy Puffs alive, and whatever you do, avoid rat brains like your life depends on it. Because your appetite certainly does-"

"Mum-"

"Oh! And don't walk around late at night, or poke a Mandrake in the mouth. Your father learnt that the hard way. And don't use the prefect's bathrooms if you value your privacy-"

"I really have to go-"

"And don't steal Bertie Bott's Beans from Honeydukes." I finished. I considered him a while. "Can I go instead of you?"

"I'm going." He said, giving his father a rushed one armed hug before turning away.

In amongst the steam and rushing people, he hesitated. Then he doubled back and flung his arms around me.

"I love you mum," He whispered, his voice almost going inaudible amongst the shouted goodbyes, shrieks of owls and stampeding of feet.

"I love you too." I whispered back, "You're going to have the time of your life, you know."

That made him smile; not the little half-hearted smiles he so often gave, but a wide, excited grin. The kind of grin my reflection would mirror.

And then he was gone; carried away with the other students onto that scarlet steam engine that was whistling and groaning with growing energy.

Draco's arm wrapped around me; pressing me against him, the shape of his shoulders and chest so familiar and comforting. He didn't need me to say anything, because he knew, but I said it anyway.

"Wow," I murmured softly, "I never thought it would hurt this much."

I didn't exactly know what I was referring to. A mixture I suppose. Because after eleven years of having him in my constant company, I now wouldn't see my son until Christmas. Because he was going to Hogwarts; for those few fleeting years that spun by, hurtling away forever.

"It was good wasn't it?" Malfoy said quietly, as we stood there anchored on that platform; stuck in the sea of parents as the train began to slide away from the station. To that castle in the hills, by the lake that glittered in the sunlight.

It would be wrong to say they were happier days, or that they were the best of my life, because they weren't. Because I was happy now; so content and blissful with my lot in life. But those days had been a chapter of my life; now closed, that I could never revisit. And that's what was hurting.

So we watched our son being taken to the place where his parents had met, where we had spent some of the greatest days of our lives, and some of the worst; where we had fought to stay happy forever. Where we had won.

"Yes." I said quietly, "It was."

I had made quite a few understatements in my life, I contemplated, as the train rounded a corner, slipping out of sight for the next few months. I thought of them all; of Terry, Antony and Draco. They'd been alongside me all this time; and they would be for many years to come. And we all had that one place that linked us and tied us together; the castle where we'd learned to levitate feathers and tried to interpret crystal balls. Where I'd laughed until I'd cried and run for my life down those corridors.

Yeah, where understatements were concerned, there were a few floating around.

And describing those years as 'good' was definitely one of them.

**Gah. *dies* **

**Le fin. The End. That's all folks. **

**This feels seriously strange to be ending...I've got feelings xD**

**I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has ever read and reviewed and to everyone who ever will read and review *meaningful stare into horizon* I could name you all...and in fact I'm going to:**

**xXMizzAlecVolturiXx, Kittyhawk58, MeganAlice, seekingelephants, urmm...Anon Reviewer, Lixsabell, randomgenius, bellaXmonster, Lily, nigthcirque, Aesthetic Butterfly, Naii, Landica2534, CrazyAboutEchizen-0704, Theheartneverlies93, , JuicyLucy921, PerriwinklePadfoot, EvilKateh, Nicky-Maree, supercoconut, ashrachellexx, Ms Lillian Nguyen, , AnonymousWriter2011, .LoL, Challen Evergreen, geekyxchild, LilEvans, Emmie Rose, Lucy123, BoOkwoRm88424, Mi-chan1991, fanficwriter99, Sarah, Julie, LunaxMoonxLune, Siriusly-Amazing7, Jisel, Arinlianette, gogo21, frazzledazzlegirl, annnnnd Ellie! **

**And all you sneaky lurkers out there ;)**

**Thanks for making this so much fun to write- for both of Meg's stories. It's just made HP even better for me than it already was. If I ever get anything published I coming to you all :P**

**Also I did a little ok-ish sketch of Meg and Draco...or Megro/Mraco umm I forget it's name. The link can be found on my author profiley thingymabob**

** Although you might not want to click it if you thought Meg had purple hair and thirteen eyes. Cos she kind of doesn't. **

**ALL WAS WELL GUYS. ALL WAS WELL.**

**Over and out.**


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